Ezekiel
by Athaeth
Summary: Harry's life just gets better and better - a Dark Lord finally gone, an angel stalking him and the bloody Apocalypse means Harry will never get any peace in life. And now there are those damn Winchesters to deal with.
1. Chapter 1

The crowds were silent as a robed figure strode across the marbled hallway. Whispers started gradually at the edges of the crowd and became a buzz like a swarm of angry bees. The robed man ignored all of this, intent on getting to the desk that was at the end of hallway. The man was used to the stares and whispers going on around him.

Harry James Potter, the-boy-who-lived, Chosen One, man-who-destroyed: these were just a few of the titles that Harry was known by. Of course, there were all the official titles that he had as well. He was Lord Potter and Lord Black, due to his inheritance from his parents and Sirius. But he little expected Albus Dumbledore to name him as his heir, making him Lord Dumbledore. The most shocking and surprising title that Harry had gained was Lord Slytherin. When a piece of Tom Riddle's soul had latched onto Harry's essence when he had tried to kill him, and Tom having no family, magic had seemingly decided that this was close enough for Harry to the heir to Tom's magic and titles.

Harry strode the last few paces to the desk and looked up at the goblin seated there. "I was told that my Estate Manager wanted to see me. He mentioned something about my inheritance." The goblin behind the desk glanced up and froze when he saw that the customer was the Saviour. But goblins were notoriously hardnosed and professional, so his surprise was quickly covered up by a blank mask. He nodded at the ebony haired man in front of him and quickly led him away from all the stares and whispers.

"Ah, Lord Potter." The goblin Malnok, who was Harry's Estate Manager, stood as Harry was shown into his office. He waved the desk clerk away impatiently as Harry sat in a conjured chair. "It is good to see you so well. I am glad you were so prompt in arranging this meeting. It is important that we discuss your inheritance."

Harry fiddles with his sleeve. "I'm not sure what it is that you want to discuss. I gained my inheritance after the war, seeing as I was 17 and of age."

"You gained all of your inheritance after your triumph against Tom Riddle. However, in your parents' last will and testament, your mother made it clear that you were not to be given a certain artefacts until you reached the age of 21"

"What do you mean?"

The goblin opened a spelled draw in his desk and pulled out a pendant on a long chain, as well as a letter and – strangely – a muggle camcorder. He placed them on the desk in front of Harry. "Your mother wished you to be given these when you were 21. I will leave you to look through them."

As the goblin left, Harry frowned at the items before tentatively picking them up one by one. The letter was in a plain white muggle envelope and address to Castiel. Harry had no idea why he was given the letter, or why his mother would write to someone called Castiel. Ignoring the letter that was plainly not addressed to him, Harry tentatively picked the camcorder up from the desk in front of him.

As Harry flipped the screen open, he was glad that he had spent the last two years living in mainly the muggle world. After defeating Voldemort when he was 17 and the death of his mentor Albus Dumbledore, Harry had decided that he wanted to complete a muggle education. He had completed the basic GCSE's, and had gotten high enough grades that he was able to continue on and do A levels. Harry had worked hard and as a result had got top grades. Harry (and Hermione) had never been prouder. Well, that was until Harry had been accepted in Cambridge University to study Accountancy with Linguistics. Cambridge, an ancient university, was one of the best in the country.

Shaking his head to focus, Harry softly pressed the play button on the camcorder and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the person that appeared on the screen. Lily Potter, her gaze an intense emerald, stared back at Harry from the screen. Harry rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the tears that welled there.

"Hi Harry." Lily's voice was soft and a smile brightened her features. "If you are seeing this recording, then either your father or I – or both of us – are gone and the goblins have followed my instructions. You're 21 now – a man. I want you to know that no matter what, we will always be proud of you and love you. I have something to tell you that no one, bar your father, knows about. It will be a little difficult for you to believe because it is implausible, even by wizards' standards."

Harry pushed the paused button and wiped furiously at his eyes. No matter how much he had finally mastered occulmensy, seeing his mother tell him she loved him still struck a nerve. Taking a deep breath, Harry steeled his nerves and jabbed the play button once again.

"As I was growing up, I used to get 'flashes' of….strange memories. But when I got accepted into Hogwarts and I found out I was magical, I ignored them and pushed them to the back of my mind. But then I had you, my darling boy." Lily stopped and smiled. "I was so happy when James and I discovered we were going to have you. During your birth, I lost a lot of blood and I technically died, but the healer was quick and saved me. When I was……dead…….I recovered all the memories that I had been ignoring for years. I discovered that I…….I don't know how to say this…….well……Harry, I was an angel."

Harry gasped and almost dropped the camera in his shock. He knew about angels from when he was made to go to church every week with his Aunt and Uncle, but he never thought they were real. Wizards were too pompous to give any time or thought to religion. After all Harry had seen and done (hell, he was in possession of a stone that allowed him to contact the dead) he was willing to consider it and accept it for now.

"I was a seraphim, the highest order of angels. I used to listen to my brothers and sisters talk about mortals. I was so curious, because I never left heaven or had even met a human. I wanted to see them and experience God's greatest creation. More so than mortals, witches and wizards fascinated me. They were given a great gift by God – the ability to manipulate His creation and transform it into something beautiful." Lily paused and looked down at her hands clasped together. When she looked back at the camera, Harry saw unshed tears in her eyes. "I remember the day that Lucifer was cast down into perdition for his defiance and sins. Every angel felt it deep in their hearts. It made me more determined to experience a mortal life. Normally, an angel would have to fall and lose their grace to become human, but I petitioned my siblings, who showed me compassion and allowed me to fall to Earth with my grace intact. It was always my intention to rejoin them at the end of my mortal life, but I met your father and I intend to pass over into the afterlife with him."

Harry felt the tears roll down his checks and ignored them as they dripped over his chin onto his robes. "I was obviously born into a muggle family, but the other angels allowed me to be born as a witch, so I would see life in both worlds. But, Harry my love, that isn't what is most important. When I die, you will inherit my grace. You are half mortal and half angel. You won't know how to access your angel gifts yet, and you probably assume any you can use are part of your magic. Harry – the pendant I have left for you is a means of contacting one of my brothers – Castiel. We met often in Heaven and he would tell me of humans and I would tell him about God. Hold the pendant tight and think of him. I love you, my baby boy."

The screen went blank, indicating that the recording had ended. Harry continued to stare at the blank screen, willing his mother to reappear, but no matter how hard he wished, it didn't happen. Sighing, Harry turned from the screen and gently picked up the pendant. It was on a silver chain and the pendant was a teardrop shaped black crystal. What made it unique and eerie was the light that seemed trapped inside the very centre of the jewel.

Harry put on the pendant and allowed it to settle for a moment, before grasping it. "Come on Castiel. Show me that you really are an angel and do really exist." Harry muttered.

"Of course I exist. Why would I not?"

Harry jumped up off his seat and spun around to face the source of the voice. Stood before him was a figure of white light, vaguely in the shape of a human. Harry blinked a few times and looked the figure up and down in wonderment. "It's true. Wow." Harry stumbled excitedly over his words. "My mother was an angel."

The figure tilted its head. "You're mother? That pendant was given to Sofiel when she became human, so that if she needed help, she could call to her siblings."

"Yes." Harry eagerly nodded, slowly walking closer to the angel before him. "My mother was an angel who wished to see human life personally so she could experience it. She was named Lily by the human couple she was born to."

"Lily?" The figure said quietly. "That is appropriate considering she was the seraphim that embodied the love of nature. If you are her son, then where is Sofiel now?"

Harry looked away from the angel. "She died when I was an infant, protecting me from a fanatical wizard that wanted power. She said in her message to me that she wanted to pass over into the afterlife with my father."

"If she died then I must inform my brothers and sisters so we can mourn her loss." The figure began to dim and disappear, before suddenly becoming bright again. "Wait. If she died and you are her son, then her Grace would have been passed on to you."

Harry shrugged, not understanding why the angel thought this was important. "I guess. She left a letter for you." Harry handed the envelope address to the angel over to the figure of light and watched, fascinated, as the angel read the letter quickly.

"It is true." The angel's voice was a combination of hope and wonderment. "You have an angel's Grace, yet are human. You have no idea what this means." The angel looked once again as Harry shrugged. "The angels have no control over what you do with your angelic gifts. That and you have a high rank that you inherited from Sofiel."

"Erm." Harry stuttered. "Angelic gifts?"

"Yes. All angels have certain gifts that they can use on Earth. Sofiel asks that I teach you to use your gifts as she isn't here herself to teach you. She also told me to tell you the name she gave you."

Harry shook his head. "Name? I already have a name."

The figure – Castiel, Harry reminded himself – shook his head. "Your angelic name. She named you Ezekiel after a brother that was lost during the first war against Lucifer, when he first fell."

Harry took a moment to process this and gave the figure a slight smile. "Thank you." He quietly said. "I wouldn't know what to do if you weren't here to help me."

"It is nothing more than any uncle would do for his family."

Harry registered the use of the word 'uncle' a few seconds late and his smile grew larger. Yes, Castiel was his uncle. And he would make damn sure he got to know him. Harry had lost too many people to the war and the following last-ditch attempts by death eaters to gain power. There was no chance he would allow this opportunity to pass.

*

"Harry?! Where the hell are you?!"

Harry sat straight up in bed as Hermione barged into his bedroom. Ignoring the fact that Harry was wearing only a pair of boxers and was looking at her confused, Hermione threw a paper down onto the bed. Not looking at the paper – Harry had long ago stopped reading the junk that the Prophet wrote – Harry pulled himself out of bed and proceeded to get changed in front of Hermione.

A few years ago, before he found out he was half-angelic, Harry would have been too shy to even consider changing in front of his best friend, but both Harry and Hermione had changed so much during the six years since the final battle against Voldemort.

Both of them had matured, Hermione with her sleek hair instead of frizz and Harry gaining muscle and having a growth spurt. Harry had thought about joining the Aurors, but the constant hero worship that followed him around made it an unappealing option. Hermione wanted to follow a muggle career and wouldn't allow Harry to do nothing with his life, so had gone back to school and had gained muggle A levels. Hermione never told Harry that whilst he was studying for his exams, so was she. She didn't want to overshadow Harry's success. Now Hermione and Harry had just graduated from Cambridge University and Hermione wanted him to go travelling across the USA with her, but Harry was still a little bit reluctant to leave the magical world behind, despite the fact that it had nothing left to offer him.

After Harry had discovered he was part angel, a few years after his defeat of Voldemort, there had been a massive attack at the ministry. Death eaters had made a final attempt at gaining control. The following battle that ensued had reduced the British wizarding population from a nearly half a million to a few tens of thousands. That one battle, ironically, had done more damage in a day than Voldemort had managed in decades.

The Weasley family, save Molly, Arthur and Charlie, had all been killed. Many school friends of Harry and Hermione's had died. But the deaths that had stabbed Harry's heart the most were the deaths of Andromeda and baby Teddy. They had been at the ministry that day to finalise Andromeda's guardianship of her grandson and had been caught in the crossfire of the heated battle. It was these deaths that had made Harry want to do something meaningful with his life. He only had Hermione left in the world, and he was determined to all he could to keep her safe. It also made him re-evaluate his life and he wanted more fun. Hell, life was too short.

"Harry!" Hermione was obviously annoyed about something. The last time he had seen her so mad was when he told her that he was half angel. It wasn't that which made her mad – it was that he had kept it from her for over a year. But once he told her everything that Castiel had taught him – like tuning into the 'angel radio' and how to transport himself silently around – she had become furiously curious and soaked up everything he told her like some kind of scary, super intelligent sponge.

"You have to read the paper Harry!" Hermione shouted at him. She let out a growl of frustration when he just looked at her with an eyebrow raised. He hadn't read it in years and there was no way he was going to start now. "Harry. They know about you. Angelic you."

Harry stilled for a moment and the quickly grabbed the paper. Scanning the article, he relaxed slightly. So, the wizarding world knew a bit about the truth, but not the whole truth. Seeing him relax obviously confused Hermione, but she didn't say anything knowing Harry would tell her anyway. They told each other everything.

"A seer came out with a prophecy about the 'Chosen One' and some rambling about God and the Angels. They have nothing – no real proof whatsoever. It'll just add to their worship, I guess."

"But you will be hounded constantly! What are we going to do?" Harry looked over at his best friend and woman who he considered his sister. Hermione had used the word 'we'. That told Harry that she would never leave him.

"Well, Hermione," Harry clasped her shoulders, ignoring the fact that he was dressed only in a pair of jeans. "We are going to take that little trip that you wanted to go on. The road trip across the US."

Hermione blinked at Harry for a full minute, his words slowly sinking in. As she realised what he had said, her eyes shined in excitement. Throwing her arms around the taller man, she squeaked in delight. "Really Harry?!"

Harry pressed his lips to Hermione's forehead and rested there with his eyes closed. They stayed in that position for a full five minutes, comfortable in the feeling of sibling love that surrounded them. Harry's thoughts wandered to a meeting he had with his angelic uncle the week before, Castiel. He told Harry that they had failed in stopping the final seal from being broken and that everything had been crazy among the angelic rank. Harry already knew that part – the 'angelic radio' was confusing to understand and recently gone quiet. Castiel informed Harry that there was fighting among the angels because of differing beliefs when it came to defying or supporting their brother Lucifer. Castiel had also told Harry that he was going in search of God and so would not be as easy to contact. He gave Harry his mobile phone number – a fact that amused Harry because he didn't think Castiel even knew what a phone was, let alone how to use it.

Harry wasn't afraid to join the fight. Hell, he was willing to die if it made a difference and saved all the innocent people in the world. He was only worried for Hermione, who would want to fight also. He would never stop her – like he would actually ever be able to- and Hermione would be with Harry until the end of the world. And it was that which scared Harry. It was the Apocalypse and the end was seriously close. Harry would do anything to indulge his adoptive sister and right now that involved taking a road trip across the US.

Pulling back from the brunette, Harry kept his grip on her shoulders. "We should go soon. I have my money and estate split between the muggle and wizard worlds from when we were at university, so we won't have to worry about that."

Hermione gave Harry a bright smile. "Yeah. It's going to be great! Backpacking across the US!" Hermione pulled away from the taller man and rushed towards the door, muttering about packing. Just before she left, she turned to Harry, a wistful smile on her face. "Thank you Harry. I know that you would do anything to indulge me – you're a great brother."

Harry watched as she left, a goofy smile plastered across his face. Harry may have lost a hell of a lot of people over the years, but he was determined he wouldn't loss Hermione. He would sell his soul to the devil himself before he ever let that happen. Even if they couldn't help to stop that Apocalypse, then he would anything to try and outrun it for Hermione's sake.

Harry shook his head, the smile slipping from his face as his thoughts became serious. Sighing, Harry glanced down at his right ring finger. Gleaming there was an ordinary looking ring with a black stone. Harry hadn't wanted to find and collect the Resurrection Stone, but as the Death Eaters gathered more and more power, he had to get it to stop it from falling into their hands. Once he had found the stone, he went to a muggle jeweller and had them make him a titanium ring with the stone set into it. Once it was made, he magically made a small compartment behind the stone and placed the wand and cloak that completed the Hallows into the magically enlarged space. He then sealed the back so it looked like an ordinary ring. A convenient side effect of this was that he could concentrate and us the rind to channel his magic so it looked like he was doing it with merely a wave of his hand. This added to his angelic gifts made him seem invincible and powerful.

Shaking his head once again to clear the old memories from his mind, Harry pulled out his phone and dialled a number from memory. The phone rang a few times before being answered by a voice that caused Harry to smile. "Hey Cas. Look, Hermione and I are going on a little trip……"


	2. Chapter 2

"Hermione Jane Granger, I'm going to kill you for that!"

Hermione ducked behind a tree, her heart banging furiously against her ribs in exertion. She took deep, steady breaths to calm herself and to not give her position away. It was after midnight and the only light that made the trees visible was from the nearly-full moon and glittering stars. Not that her stalker needed light to find her.

Glancing around the side of the tree, Hermione never noticed the figure that suddenly appeared behind her as her back was turned. Sensing someone, she spun back around and shrieked when the figure grabbed her around the waist. Reacting on instinct, she brought he foot down, hard, and slammed it into the figure's foot. Stumbling, the figure fell down, dragging Hermione with them.

Harry cursed colourfully as Hermione stamped on his foot. He lost his balance and fell, Hermione tumbling with him. Harry quickly turned his body and braced himself so that they landed with Hermione cradled against his chest and his body taking the full impact of the fall. The breath was knocked out of him and they both lay there for a few moments, before Harry started to chuckle.

Hermione looked down at Harry, and shook her head at him. But Harry's laugh was infectious, and she soon found herself laughing uncontrollably. It was only now that she noticed just how covered in mud Harry was. The whole reason Harry had been chasing her was because she had pushed him into a muddy puddle.

"That was fun. We should hunt more often." Harry had finally stopped laughing and was referring to the reason that they were in the woods in the middle of the night. They had been travelling across the USA for a few months now, enjoying the free feeling that they both got. They occasionally came across the supernatural even though they weren't actively tracking it down. On this occasion, they were tracking a rabid vampire and had ended up in the woods. It was going fine, until the vampire tried to attack Hermione, which seriously pissed Harry off.

Harry knew that Hermione could take care of herself and that she absorbed any kind of new information like a sponge (a scary, super intelligent sponge). But Hermione was his sister – it made no difference to him that they weren't related by blood. He had a blood link to his Aunt, but that didn't make her family. Harry had quickly and efficiently killed the vampire, his emotions coiled tightly. Hermione felt bad that Harry was always so affected when she was in danger and she felt the same when Harry was in peril also. So, she decided to lighten the mood. Her solution: push Harry into the giant, muddy puddle next to them.

"Come on." Harry shifted his weight so that he could stand and pull Hermione with him. Straightening himself, he sighed as he looked at his clothes. They were covered in mud but at least it hadn't managed to soak through all the way to his skin. Glancing at his best friend, he saw that Hermione's jeans and t-shirt now were also covered in dirt. Grinning at this, he gently took hold of her hand and the reappeared his the house that they were currently renting.

"Thanks." Hermione let go of Harry's hand and began to walk up the stairs. "I'm gonna go and have a shower. I've left my bag in the car and can't be bothered to get it, so I'm sleeping in my underwear. And I'm going to borrow one of your shirts. That ok?" Without waiting for a reply, she bounded up the stairs and locked herself in the bathroom.

Hearing the shower turn on, Harry muttered, "Like I could even stop you." Shaking his head, he followed Hermione's path up the staircase and went to get changed into a loose pair of sweats so he could climb into his welcoming and warm bed.

*

Dean glanced over at his younger brother, who was currently scrunched up in the car seat next to him, asleep. They were on their way back to Bobby's, to check up on how he was doing and to tell him about their last hunt. Thinking about their last hunt brought a scowl to his face. God damn it, he had been beat up by Paris Hilton! Well, not really Paris Hilton, but a fugly supernatural being parading around as her. But still! Sammy would not shut up about it!

Thinking of his younger brother, Dean realised that it had been a while since his he had seen his brother laugh like he did when he was ribbing Dean about being beat up by Paris-freakin-Hilton. Shaking his head, Dean realised that Sammy was right when he told Dean that he couldn't carry on treating him like he was still the little kid that he had raised single handed whilst their Dad was off hunting. He would do anything to save him - hell; he would even sell his soul again in a heartbeat if it would keep his brother safe. Right now though, he was more interested in stopping Sammy from saying 'yes' to Satan.

Pulling up in front of Bobby's house, Dean turned off his beloved car and smirked as he leaned over and poked his younger brother in the ribs. Hard. Sam jumped and looked blearily around for a moment, before rubbing his ribs and giving Dean his hurt, puppy-dog eyes. "What was that for man?"

Dean just ignored the look and climbed out of the car, stretching to get the aches out of his muscles. He sighed when he heard a gun being cocked and turned to see Bobby in his chair on the porch of his house. It may be just after four in the morning, but Bobby was always prepared and ready for anything. The man was one hell of a Hunter. Ignoring the greeting Sam sent his way, Bobby threw a hipflask filled with holy water to Dean and watched as they each took a drink. When nothing happened, he lowered the gun and wheeled himself back inside, indicating that the brothers should follow him in.

Once inside, Sam sank down onto the sagging couch and slouched there. Dean looked at him and shook his head when Sammy just shrugged at him. "So, how have you been Bobby?"

"That, boy, is a dumb question." Bobby took a swig from a different hipflask than the one he had made the brothers drink from, and Dean knew that there was something much stronger than holy water in there. "I'm a Hunter for God's sake! Now I can't even do that and it's the damn Apocalypse – and I'm stuck in this damn chair!"

Dean ran a hand through his short hair and tried to come up with something to say, but words failed him. He had never been any good at emotional crap, and it hurt him that he couldn't help the man who was like a father to him and his brother. Before he could even formulate a semi-intelligent reply, a voice sounded behind him.

"I may be able to help with that."

Everyone in the room turned and saw the angel, Castiel, had appeared in the room behind Dean. "Cas." Dean looked the angel up and down, assessing him to see if he was hurt in anyway. "How is the search going? And I thought that you couldn't heal Bobby because you aren't connected to heaven anymore."

Castiel turned his intense gaze towards the man in the chair. "The search is not going well." The angel paused and seemed to be having some kind of internal debate with himself. Seemingly coming to a decision he continued. "I can not heal you. But there is another angel who can – one whose rank means that the other angels can not stop him from doing so. However, he does not know that we will be arriving."

"What? You want to leave now?" Sam stood up and moved next to his brother. "It's four thirty in the morning!"

"The sooner it is done, the better. I see no logical reason for delay. The Apocalypse in upon us and we need all the warriors we can get."

"Damn straight." Bobby manoeuvred himself closer to the other Hunters and angel. "When do we leave?" Before the words were out of his mouth, they all suddenly found themselves in a different room than they previously were in.

"A little warning next time Cas." Dean scolded as he looked around. The room was dimly lit by a couple of lamps, so Dean could make out the details well enough. It appeared they were in a living room of some kind, with leather couches and a flat screen TV on one wall. Turning, Dean saw that the wall behind him was covered by bookshelves. Man, Sammy and Bobby would have a field day here.

"Castiel."

Dean turned quickly, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun before he managed to stop himself. It wouldn't be a good idea to shoot the angel that was supposed to be helping them. Forcing himself to relax, Dean observed the angel before him. The angel's vessel was slightly taller than himself and had just as much muscle. Dean could tell that the muscle came from physical work and not just hours at the gym pulling weights. He had ebony hair that fell slightly into intense emerald coloured eyes. He had a soft British accent. Also, he was wearing only a pair of sweats and was showing a well defined and toned chest.

"Ezekiel." Castiel greeted the other angel warmly, displaying more emotion in that one word than Dean had seen him use in the entire time he had known the angel.

Harry looked at his angel uncle as he called him by his angelic name, Ezekiel. Castiel had finally agreed years ago to call him Harry and Harry even managed to convince him to allow him to call him Uncle Cas. Castiel only called him Ezekiel when it was about angelic business. Harry felt a gaze on him and turned to find the shorter of the young men looking him up and down in a calculating way. Seeing as his uncle had used his angelic name, Harry assumed that these men thought he was a full angel, so he decided to act like one. It would cause too many explanations if they found out he was only half an angel and he couldn't be bothered right now.

Turning back to his uncle, Harry ignored the other men. "What do you want of me Castiel?"

Seeing no surprise from Castiel when he didn't refer to him as his uncle, Harry knew he was right in his assumption that these men thought he was a full angel that was occupying a vessel. Now he knew why he was getting strange looks from them – most angels wore suits, not sweat pants and being topless.

"These are Hunters. Samuel and Dean Winchester." Castiel pointed out the men in turn and Harry nodded to them. "And this is Robert Singer. He was injured and I can not heal him because of my lack of connection to heaven at the present time."

Harry looked over the man in the wheelchair. "And you want me to do it. Could you not have waited until the morning? I was busy when you decided to come here."

Dean couldn't help the snort that escaped him. "It's not like you're currently fighting Satan's minions. What the hell could you have been busy with?"

However, Dean's laughter was cut off by Hermione stepping into the room and looking sleepily around. She had awoken due to the voices that were coming for downstairs. Silently, she had gone to Harry's room and found it empty. If Harry was talking to the people that were downstairs, then they must be ok, because Harry would have gotten rid of them by now if they were a threat to them.

Pulling on one of Harry's shirts, it reached mid-thigh, she did a few buttons up for modesties sake. Going down the stairs quietly, she heard the distinct voice of Harry's uncle, Castiel. She entered the living room to find Harry was there with his uncle and three other men. The tallest of the younger men looked her up and down, his mouth gaping open, before he blushed and averted his gaze. The oldest, who was in a wheelchair, looked at her calculatingly, as though he couldn't figure out why she was there. The shorter of the younger men was just staring at her.

Dean was shocked when the young woman entered the room. She was about the same age as Ezekiel's vessel – early to mid twenties. She had brown hair that softly curled and warm brown eyes that were slightly glazed with sleep. She was dressed only in a man's shirt which reached her thighs mid-way down. Dean looked between her and the younger angel and contemplated their state of undress and recalled the comment about being busy.

Harry watched as the older Winchester brother stared at Hermione. He could almost see the cogs turning in his brain and saw when he came to a conclusion. He found it extremely amusing when Dean's expression became shocked as his mind jumped to the wrong conclusion. Harry had a hard time keeping his facial expression straight, but inside he was bursting with laughter.

"Hermione." Castiel stepped forward as he greeted the woman. He was confused by Dean's reaction to her, but he let it pass. As Harry was telling him, he had a lot to learn about humans and their peculiar ways. "Ezekiel was just dealing with some business."

Hermione nodded to show that she understood. She knew that when Castiel called Harry by his angelic name, then he wanted Harry to slip into 'angel mode'. Hermione had also seen the look on the shorter man's face as he came to the wrong conclusion about Harry and herself and why they were both dressed as they were. Deciding to pull a little prank on them in revenge for waking her up, she walked over to Harry and placed her hand flat on his bare chest.

"Well, finish up your business and come back to bed." Harry looked down and saw the mischief shining in Hermione's eyes. Sometimes, Hermione could be as bad as the Weasley twins were when she wanted to be. "Don't be long."

Harry had to try harder than ever to keep the laughter from escaping. He knew Hermione was doing this in revenge against the Hunters for them having dragged both of them out of bed in the middle of the night when they had only got back from their hunt a few hours before. He smiled at her and leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Of course."

All three hunters watched as Hermione left the room, deliberately swaying her hips slightly. Turning back to the younger angel, they saw his face was once again blank. "Erm…….err……." Sam stumbled as he tried to think of something to say. Desperately, he turned to his older brother, only to find him looking at Ezekiel in a speculative way.

"For God's sake!" Bobby snapped, making everyone look at him. "So the angel is getting lucky with some chick, who cares? Get on with the healing you idjit."

Harry moved forward and placed his hand on Bobby's arm. He was only in contact with the man for a mere few seconds, but in that time Harry managed to heal the damage to the older man's body. Stepping back slightly, he pulled the man with him so that he was standing. He heard Sam and Dean both gasp as Bobby managed to walk on his own. Harry made to moved away, but the older hunter grabbed him in a stoic, yet grateful, hug. Harry just stood awkwardly patting the man on the back.


	3. Chapter 3

Robert Singer, car mechanic and Hunter of the supernatural stared at the man – no, angel – that he had moments ago been hugging like his life depended on. In a way, it had. This angel of the Lord, no matter how strange he was, had given Bobby his life back. He could now walk again, which meant he could work on cars, carry on being a Hunter and do something as simple as walk up the stairs. Bobby, still staring at the angel, threw himself into the leather sofa.

"Damn, I need a drink right now." He vague commented. What he didn't expect was getting one.

Harry looked at the older Hunter as he sank into the couch, muttering about needing alcohol. Shaking his head, Harry strode over to a cabinet next to the bookcases and pulled out his secret stash. Grabbing enough glasses for them all (except his angelic uncle), Harry placed them down on the coffee table in front of Bobby and filled them with a generous amount of the amber liquid. Taking one, he raised the glass in a silent salute towards the older Hunter and down the drink in one. Feeling the burn as it went down, he filled himself another glass.

Bobby took a sip of the drink, cautious as ever. "Jack Daniels. Good taste."

"I try my best." Harry nodded, and sipped his drink slowly this time, savouring it.

"Dude, what kind of angel are you?" Dean went slightly red as everyone turned to stare as him, including Harry's intense green gaze.

"What I mean is…..erm…..Castiel never acts so…..human." Dean stuttered as he tried to explain what he meant. He could feel the strong emerald gaze watching his face blush, which caused him to become even more flustered. But he really wanted to know.

Harry saw Dean becoming flushed as he tried to explain himself. He could understand him not wanting to piss an angel off and he clearly still thought Harry was an angel. This was an assumption that he wasn't going to correct. Except the angels and Hermione, no one knew that Harry was half angel. Those that knew him thought he was either a full angel or he was merely human.

Taking another leisurely sip of his whiskey, Harry took pity on the man in front of him. "I've been on earth longer than Castiel has, so have learnt how to be human better than he has."

Turning the glass in his hands, Dean steeled himself to ask a question. "Castiel mentioned earlier that the other angels can't stop you from doing what you want because of your rank. What does that mean?"

Harry sighed. He hated explanations at the best of times, but when he had to give an edited version of the truth, it just gave him a headache. Why couldn't he have a simple life? "Angel ranks are inherited, parent to child. I know humans think that angels are immortal, but we aren't. We just have longer lives than humans and operate on a different time scale because of this."

"I'm not sure where this is going." Dean admitted reluctantly.

"What Ezekiel is saying is that he inherited his rank from his mother, Sofiel. She was a seraphim, the highest order of angels who never leave God's side. They highest rank of angel that walks the Earth is archangels." Castiel calmly explained.

"They are several ranks below me." Harry carried on, shooting Castiel a grateful look. "So, they really can't tell me what to do. And before you ask," Harry sharply said, causing Sam to quickly close his mouth, stopping the question he was about to ask, "Neither Castiel nor I will explain why I'm on Earth when Seraphim normally stay in Heaven. You don't need to know that."

Harry drained his glass of the last dregs of whiskey and stood up stretching. Dean saw that when he stretched out, the muscles on his chest and arms rippled. The vessel that Ezekiel has chosen was definitely in shape and the angel couldn't have chosen a better looking body to use. Dean shook his head, wondering where that sudden thought had come from. The soft English accent of the angel brought his attention back to the current situation.

"Well, I better be getting back to bed, before Hermione tries to castrate me." Harry said with a completely straight and blank face. He was close to laughing when he saw Sam almost choke on the sip of whiskey he had just taken when Harry came out with that comment. But it was true. Hermione was always telling Harry that he shouldn't stay up so late looking for new Hunts. She could be such a pain in the ass sometimes, just like a sister should be.

"Uncle Cas." Harry turned to the angel, ignoring the choking that was now coming from Dean as well as Sam. "You know where I am if you need anything. Keep safe whilst you search." Harry pulled the angel into a tight hug, which was returned – much to the surprise of the present Hunters.

Dean watched as Ezekiel left the room and could hear him softly open a door once he was up the stairs. Turning to Castiel, he was about to demand what the hell the uncle comment was about when he found himself back in Bobby's living room, with Castiel no where to be seen.

"Damn you Castiel." Dean shouted at the ceiling, pissed at his angelic guardian. He couldn't just leave them with so many questions and disappear like that!

"Dude, he can't hear you." Sam commented, amused. "Even if he can, he'll just ignore you. He kind of has an important quest – you know, to find God."

"I don't care!" Dean was frustrated. "I want answers right now."

"I didn't say thank you properly." Bobby commented, causing the argument between brothers that had just started to abruptly end. "I mean, he didn't have to help me."

"Angels are normally dicks." Dean commented. "But I'm sure he will understand. It was a shock for you."

"I know, but I really need to thank him. Next time you see Castiel, tell him that I want to thank Ezekiel."

*

A huge crack was heard as Harry was thrown across the room and hit a wall. He bounced off and fell face first onto the floor. Looking up, he glared at the ghost as it advanced on him. He and Hermione were currently in Salem – ironic since they were probably the only magic people in the entire damn town. Whilst looking through the Wiccan shops and witch themed mini-museums, they had got wind of a Hunt that was here. So, Harry was now being thrown around by a man-hating ghost of a Wiccan witch that was murdered by her husband. Apparently, Harry resembled that husband.

"Stop laughing and burn the damn wedding dress!" Harry shouted at Hermione, who was being ignored by the ghost. Hermione found it funny that Harry was being mistaken for the woman's husband by the ghost and the fact that he refused to use his angel or magical gifts whilst on a hunt.

Harry glared once more at Hermione, before switching his attention back to the spectre in front of him that had somehow managed to get closer to him whilst his attention was diverted by his annoying sister. Harry felt a sudden draw on his power and glanced down at the Resurrection Stone on his finger. It glowed with an ethereal light, causing him to swear.

"God damn it!" Harry shouted, pissed off. The ring was causing the spirit to become more solid, meaning it could cause more physical damaged and was no longer limited to using just psychic energy to move things. It could now literally touch things. Harry never normally lost control of the Hallows, but he allowed himself to be distracted by the ghost's bright red hair for a fraction of a second. He subconsciously thought wistfully about Ginny. The Stone took that to mean it could summon the ghost's spirit fully.

"Burn the damn dress!"

Harry backed up against the wall as the ghost crawled towards him, a sneer plastered on her face. Thinking quickly, Harry apologised to the ghost. Hell, she already thought he was her husband, so why not act like he was if it saved his life. It caused the ghost to hesitate.

"Really, William?" She pleaded. "Do you mean it? You'll leave her and we'll be together forever?"

"Yes, I'll leave my mistress and we'll be together always." Harry plastered a smile on his face, but had to force it to stay as the ghost sat on his lap and pressed her lips to Harry's. Despite the fact that it was a ghost, Harry had to admit she was a good kisser. Just as he was disgusted by that thought, the ghost pulled back and screamed. She erupted into smoke and disappeared.

"Are you ok Harry?" Hermione said, putting out the burning wedding dress that had been keeping the ghost in the mortal world. "Or did you want some more time with her?"

"Shut up." Harry wheezed as he stood up, clenching his teeth as pain erupted over his ribs. There was definitely at least one broken. Harry knew that he would heal in a mere few days because wizards and angels healed fast, but he still would have to be careful for a few days. "God, I need to get laid if the Hallows think that I'm that desperate."

Hermione finished checking him over to make sure he wasn't too injured and smirked at his comment. Considering the upbringing that Harry had with his Aunt and Uncle and the fact that the wizard community was distinctly conservative in its attitude, Harry was now extremely open. He wanted to get the most from life before he either died or the Apocalypse ended the world. Harry may have loose morals sometimes, especially when it came to one night stands, but he was loyal to those who he considered family or the very few times he had real relationships, he never even looked at another person.

"Sure." Hermione grabbed the car keys from Harry and helped him down the creaking stairs of the abandoned house they were currently in. "We'll go back to the hotel and clean up. Once we get some painkillers into you, you can go and blow off some steam. I hate it when you get grouchy."

"Hermione." Harry said seriously. "You are the best sister anyone could have. But, if you scratch or damage my car in any which way, I will never forgive you."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she loaded Harry into the passenger seat of the car. Harry loved his car more than anything – except for herself and his angelic uncle – and would kill anyone who damaged it. Hermione could still remember the day Harry had brought home his brand new sports car. It was, according to Harry, a Porsche Carrera GT and expensive. Very expensive. Harry had refused to tell Hermione how much it had cost him and still to this day, she couldn't get a price out of him.

"Yeah, yeah." Hermione muttered. "Just get into the damn car."

Hermione carefully navigated her way back to their hotel, handing the car keys to the valet that was waiting outside. The people on the desk didn't even blink as Hermione marched across the marble lounge supporting Harry. She was wary at first about staying in a hotel whilst on a hunt, sure that the staff would comment about their appearance when they came back at all hours after a hunt. But Harry had assured her that money would get you anywhere. The woman on the desk when they had first checked in had taken one look at Harry's smile and credit card and had swooned right there and then.

"Ow." Harry moaned as Hermione dumped him on his bed in his room of the suite they were staying in. "Damn, I don't think that night out is a good idea. Even potions won't heal my ribs for a week."

"Stop being such a girl, Harry." Hermione chided him, amused. "With your angelic gifts, they'll be healed in a few days at the most. Just take some painkillers and get some sleep."

"Have you no sympathy?" Harry groaned and rolled his eyes at his sister's lack of empathy as she shoved a couple of paracetamol towards him. Swallowing the pills whole and without water Harry muttered curses. "Like a couple of pills will help."

"It'll take the edge off as you start to heal." Hermione shrugged and called out a good night over her shoulder as she wandered out of his room. Still cursing, Harry waved his hand at the door to his bedroom, causing it to slam shut. Groaning as his ribs panged with pain, Harry closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

*

The music blared loudly, the bass beat rumbling through the entire crowd on the dance floor as they moved in time to the beat. Right at the centre of the dance floor was an ebony haired man. He was getting a lot of attention from box sexes of the dancers around him as he sensually swayed in time to the music. It wasn't that he was just good looking – which everyone drooling over him would willingly admit that he was, with glowing emerald eyes and a toned body – it was also the fact that he exuded a confidence and a sense of power and control that seemed to draw people in.

Laughing slightly as the song ended, Harry dodged the admirers he seemed to have gathered and left the dance floor, heading for the bar. Every time he went out, Harry often found himself getting more and more attention as the night wore on. He assumed it had something to do with the kind of aura that hung around angels. He never even considered the fact that it was because he was considered one of the best looking guys in the entire bar. Harry had gotten so used to the attention that he never felt the gazes looking him over. Harry was determined to have a good time, now more than ever because of the impending threat from the Apocalypse.

Stopping by the bar, Harry signalled the barman who gave him a bottle of beer. Harry was already slightly more than tipsy, which was quite an accomplishment considering it took a lot to get a wizard drunk and Harry was by no means a lightweight. Smirking as the barman gave him the once over, Harry took a drag of beer. He almost ended up spitting it out, however, when he heard the voice of his uncle behind him.

"Harry." Castiel warmly returned the sloppy hug that Harry gave him, although he was slightly confused because Harry was normally more reserved in public. Looking closer, he could tell that Harry was slightly intoxicated and seemed to be deliberately 'letting his hair down' (an expression that Harry had to explain to him many times before he could comprehend it's meaning). Shaking his head, he turned to his nephew's adoptive sister, Hermione, when she appeared next to him, having seen Castiel subtly appear.

"Hermione." Castiel greeted. "I will tell you the message that I have because I do not believe Harry is capable of remembering it in the morning. Robert Singer has told me to tell you that he wishes to see Harry so that he may thank him properly for healing him."

"Sure Castiel." Hermione smiled at her brother's uncle. "We can be there by tomorrow evening. Its a few hours drive from here, so if I can drag Harry from whose ever bed he finds himself in tomorrow morning, then we can be there by midday."

Castiel looked over at his nephew and shook his head. "It is no wonder the Winchesters can not work out what kind of angel you are when you continue to commit such trivial sins."

"Hey!" Harry protested. "Fornication is the best kind of sin. You would know if you weren't such a damn virgin! And I'll get around to telling the Winchester's the truth. Eventually. I just like messing with them. It makes life fun, you know?"

Castiel shook his head, confused. "I do not know."

Harry snorted and took another drag of beer. "Well good for you. Let me know when you find God, and then maybe we can discuss my sins."

"I will do that." Castiel answered seriously, disappearing into the crowd before vanishing completely.

Harry turned to Hermione and smirked. He caught the eye of a group of three women that had all been staring at him and giggling. Glad that his ribs had healed last week and that he hadn't sustained any other injuries since then; Harry downed the last of his beer and slammed the bottle back onto the bar. Telling her that he would see her tomorrow morning, Harry slid through the crowd and approached the women. Seeing them all giggle and more closer to Harry, Hermione shook her head. Harry would have one hangover in the morning and it seemed he would be getting very little sleep as well.

*

"Think we could stop at the next diner and get some coffee?"

Hermione looked over at her brother in the passenger seat of the car. He was wearing just simple jeans and a t-shirt, but he looked deathly tired. Harry had appeared early back at their hotel rooms, on pain of death from Hermione because she wanted to leave early. They were now an hour away from Bobby's address that Castiel had given them and Harry had managed to sleep most of the way.

Pulling over at the nearest diner they could find, Hermione slammed the driver's door. She ignored Harry's squeak of protest and marched inside the diner. Harry followed her inside. Half an hour later, Harry was full of coffee and syrup covered pancakes and felling more human. Despite the fact that he was only half human, an amused Hermione delighted in reminding him. Harry just glared at her and sneered at her healthy breakfast of wholemeal toast.

"Hey, I don't want to eat junk all the time."

Harry just snorted. "Hermione, you know that sugar does hardly anything to witches and wizards. Magic requires a lot of energy. I simply indulge it."

"Harry." Hermione said, exasperated. "Normal witches and wizards have normal levels of magic, so only need slightly more energy than ordinary human. Even without your angelic side, you are one of the most powerful wizards of this time. Of course you need massive amounts of sugar. Its all you damn well eat!"

"You're just jealous." Harry smirked at the death glares his sister was giving him and threw down some money for their breakfast. Smiling at the waitress as they left, causing her to become flustered, Harry grabbed the car keys from Hermione. Giving her evil looks when she asked if he was ok to drive, he reminded her that nothing would keep him away from his sports car.

*

"So Castiel said that he would be arriving at around midday?"

Dean watched as Bobby paced the living room in amazement. He had known Bobby for years and had never seen him this nervous. He had faced down demons, ghosts, werewolves, vampires and many other supernatural monsters. Yet he was nervous about meeting the angel that had healed him and allowed him to walk again.

"We still have a little bit of time before he arrives." Bobby said, almost to reassure himself.

"Erm, sorry to burst this little chick flick moment, but we don't have the time" Dean was stood by the window and had seen a car pull up. "Someone is outside."

Grabbing guns and stealthily concealing them, the Hunters trooped out onto the porch, only to stop and stare at the car. It was a shiny Porsche and was obviously expensive. It definitely wasn't the kind of car that normally graced Bobby's front yard. Dean was just admiring the sports car when out stepped a figure from the driver's side. His mouth fell open when he saw who it was.

Ezekiel, an angel of the Lord, had just climbed out of an expensive sports car. That alone was enough to shock Dean, but it was also because he looked so……._normal._ He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and sunglasses. And converse, of all things. Dean couldn't wrap his mind around it all. It went against everything he knew about the angels he had met.

"Dean, stop staring. It's rude." Harry pulled the sunglasses off and locked gaze with the eldest Winchester brother, who looked away, flushing in embarrassment at having been caught staring.

"Stop being rude." Hermione had come up behind Harry and smacked his in the arm, causing him to glare at her.

"Erm lets go into the living room." Bobby waved everyone inside.

Harry looked around the room that he had just entered. He was observing everything to try and see what he could learn about the Hunter that he had healed on Castiel's request. More than that, however, he was searching out potential threats, weapons and possible exits. The room was old and worn, but had a lived in and homely look. Harry had grown up in a house where everything was pristine and sparkling, and when he had gone to Hogwarts he was always surrounded by magical and medieval furniture and surrounds. He found himself liking this room better than either of his two past 'homes'.

"Nice room." Harry seated himself in the sagging couch and smiled slightly at the nervous Hunter in front of him. Bobby gave a sigh of relief and sat down in his armchair.

"Do you mind if I get a drink of water?" Hermione said before Bobby could speak. Receiving a nod in the direction of the kitchen, Hermione gave Harry a reassuring smile and received a grateful one in return. Harry never liked to receive thanks and Hermione was giving him space.

Sam woke up and found that it was late in the morning. He had been up late the previous night searching out information about cambions, trying to find any leads on Jesse or any other cambion that may be out there. Sam could, on some level, relate to Jesse and was glad he had made the right choice. Sam still felt deep guilt for what he did – he didn't make the right choice and now the world was paying for it. It was the damn Apocalypse. Sam needed redemption.

Shaking the dark thoughts from his mind, Sam entered the small bathroom and splashed water over his face. Cursing a moment of clumsiness that caused him to slosh water all down his chest, Sam pulled his t-shirt over his head, leaving him in just a pair of pyjama bottoms. A grumbling coming from his stomach drove him quietly down the stairs towards the kitchen. He could hear Bobby's low rumbling voice and assumed that he was talking to Dean, probably about their next Hunt.

Entering the kitchen, Sam made a beeline for the fridge, hoping that Dean hadn't eaten all the food before he had a chance to get something. Dean ate like a damn horse. As his hand reached for the fridge handle, Sam heard a throat clearing behind him and turned around, thinking that Dean was about to make a sarcastic comment.

Instead, he found Hermione stood leaning against the sink, a glass of water in her hand and her eyebrows raised. Sam looked down at his shirtless chest and back up to Hermione's lightly pink tinged face and went bright red. Crossing his arms over his chest in a protective manner, Sam stuttered to explain himself.

"It's ok." Hermione softly interrupted. She quickly downed the rest of the water in her glass and deposited it in the sink. Clearing her throat once again, she said, "I, erm, better go back in there."

Hermione nodded to Sam and hastily exited the kitchen. Sam scrunched his eyes shut and leaned back against the fridge. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up and saw his older brother leaning against the doorframe.

"How much did you see?" Sam asked flatly.

Dean flashed him an amused smirk. "Oh, just everything. Real smooth, Sammy."

"Shut up." Sam muttered, but with no real force.

Dean watched as his brother refused to take the bait and ignored his barbs. He frowned when he saw how…..defeated Sammy looked. He couldn't work out what was wrong with him. Sure, Sam had always been shy when it came to women and was nothing like Dean and his flirtatious ways. But the last time he has seen Sam so flustered was when he really liked someone.

Suddenly, it clicked. "Dude, do you like her?" Dean asked incredulously. Seeing the look Sam was giving him, he rolled his eyes and quickly amended, "I don't mean just like as a friend. I mean the 'I want to sleep with you' kind of like."

"She……I mean….." Sam went even redder, if it was possible. "She seems nice, ok?" Sam looked at his older brother defiantly, daring him to say something sarcastic.

Dean just smirked. "Cute Sammy. Real cute." Dean suddenly looked serious. "I would be careful if I were you. Crossing an angel isn't a smart idea."

"I know Dean, I know." Sam muttered, pushing past his older brother and marching up the stairs. Dean shook his head at his brother and went back into the living room. Hermione was now sat next to Ezekiel, who was talking to Bobby. However, when Hermione was talking to the older Hunter, the angel looked over at Dean and locked gazes with him.

The gaze was so intense, but that wasn't what was making Dean nervous. It was the knowing expression that was on the angel's face that worried him. It was almost as though the angel knew what Dean had just been talking about with his brother. All the angels that Dean had ever met, except for Cas, were dicks. There was no other way to describe them. But Ezekiel didn't act like any other angel Dean knew. There was no way of predicting how he would react. And that was what made him nervous for his baby brother.


	4. Chapter 4

"Look!" Harry was finally at the end of his considerable patience and Bobby had only said that annoying word twice. 'Thanks'. It left a bitter taste in Harry's mouth. The truth was; he enjoyed Hunting and killing evil monsters. The saving people was more of a side effect of that. At least, that is what Harry thought. Hermione insisted he had a 'saving people thing'. "I'm glad that you are happy, but you need to snap out of this stupid kind of _awe _you are in and get back to Hunting. The Apocalypse won't stop itself you know."

Bobby stared at the young angel in front of him in surprise. The impression he had gotten off the angels he had met in the past was that they were all dicks. And that was putting it politely. They thought themselves above humans in every way and if they chose to heal a human, they would expect worship from them for all eternity.

Harry's reply when Bobby mentioned this was surprising to both of the Hunters in the room. "Yeah well, I'm not like most of my family." God, they didn't know how true that was, Harry's thoughts strayed. He wasn't anything like the other angels and he was certainly not like his human Aunt. "Most angels are pompous bastards that don't know what it is like on Earth anymore. The last time they came down here was when everyone worshipped faithfully and was fearful to commit sin. Nowadays, there is sin all over and hardly anyone truly believes. Just ask Castiel, he will explain what it was like the last time he was here compared to how it is now."

Dean shifted his gaze from Bobby to the angel, remembering his questions from earlier when Castiel was mentioned. "Why did you call Castiel 'uncle'? I thought angels were brothers and sisters or something like that?" Dean asked bluntly.

Harry sighed. He knew that Winchesters would have questions that would bring them closer to the truth about what Harry really was. He knew the fate of Dean Winchester – Michael was very vocal on 'angel radio' about wanting his vessel so he could once again cast his corrupt brother, Lucifer, back into the pits of hell. If you asked Harry, Michael sounded a little bit too eager. The sadistic bastard.

Harry also knew that Dean and his younger brother had been the ones to break the first and last seals that had allowed the Apocalypse to happen. Surprisingly (even to himself) Harry found that he didn't blame the Winchester brothers. Angels and demons were as bad as each other when it came to manipulating humans. Castiel was the only angel Harry had met so far that wanted to save humans and wasn't doing it just because he was told to by his superiors. That is why Harry didn't consider the other angels his family.

"Castiel already told you that angelic rank and Grace is inherited." Harry finally decided to be honest. "I inherited mine from my mother, Sofiel. Technically, in the angelic family tree, Castiel is my uncle. You understand?"

Dean nodded slowly. Hell, there was way more to angels than he could ever imagine. He had always thought angels were supposed to be airy fairy, who worked for the betterment of humans in the name of God. That was when he was a kid. As he got older, his faith had dwindled. Now that he knew for a fact that angels existed, he couldn't help but think they were all bitches in their attitude to humans. Except Castiel and his nephew, Ezekiel.

Harry stood and put his sunglasses back on his nose. "Look, we have to go. Places to be and all that." Pulling his wallet out and digging around inside, Harry pulled out a plain white card with his number on it. He debated with himself for a second, before coming to a decision. He placed the card on the arm of the sofa. "Here is my number. Call if you need anything."

"Why?" Dean stupidly asked, before being whacked by Bobby and being called an idjit. Harry couldn't help the smile that graced his features and it was this simple expression that caused Dean to stare. The smile lightened all the angel's features and caused his eyes to glow brightly. He looked more……human was the only way Dean could describe it. Looking away, Dean was confused by his own thoughts.

"Because Castiel wants to help you, but won't be there all the time. His search is important. I want to help him, so the least I could do is to make sure none of you die." Harry shrugged. "Castiel seems fond of you for some reason."

Harry stalked towards the door and held it open, waiting for Hermione. She smiled at Bobby and nodded to Dean. "It was a pleasure to meet you properly this time." Dean refrained from making one of his typical comments about her wearing nearly no clothes the last time they met, aware that Ezekiel was watching them. Hermione continued hesitantly. "Could you tell Sam that it was nice to properly meet him and that we will see him again in the future?" Getting a nod from Dean, Hermione slipped out of the house, closely followed by the angel. Shaking his head as he heard the car start with a roar, Dean contemplated just how bad their life could become if Ezekiel went out of his way to make it hell.

*

"Hermione."

It was over three hours into the drive away from Bobby's and this was the first time Harry had spoken. He hadn't said anything as they had gotten in to the car, just given Hermione a calculating look that she couldn't work out. Harry's eyes had been on the road and silence had reined since their departure.

"Look, you know I'm not good at stuff like this." Harry ran a hand through his hair, his sharp gaze never leaving the road. Hermione twisted around in her seat to look at her brother as he continued. "I'll just come right out and say it."

"Say what?" Hermione finally had to ask in confusion.

"Samuel Winchester." Harry's eyes darted from the road to Hermione's face for a mere few seconds, but it was enough for him to read the minute expressions that were crossing her features at the mention of the younger Winchester brother. He had known her long enough.

"I know that you like him." Harry was blunt.

Hermione thought about denying it, but knew that Harry could pick up a lie from a mile away, especially when it was her doing the lying. Damn his angelic half. "Fine! Yes, I like him. There, happy now?"

Harry's face broke into a huge smile as Hermione stamped her foot, even though she was seated. He was glad that Hermione had finally found someone that she liked. Harry went through one night stand after another, but he wasn't searching for 'the one' as Hermione often explained to him. She believed in true love, which was something Harry couldn't make himself believe.

"Well, I'm happy for you. He is good looking, and most Hunters have really good bodies." Harry grinned when Hermione blushed.

"Shut up." She muttered, still pink. "It'll be difficult though. I don't think…..I'm not going to do anything about it."

Harry looked at Hermione's dejected face and pulled over next to the road, ignoring the honks from the cars that had to slow down to overtake him. "Why not?" He demanded.

"Harry," Hermione calmly met his intense gaze. "We are in the middle of the Apocalypse. I doubt he is considering getting into a real relationship. And he thinks we are a couple."

Harry pouted. "All of those things can be fixed. And sod the Apocalypse. If we are going to die, we might as well have some fun before we go down fighting, right?"

Hermione looked at the determined look on Harry's face when he mentioned the end of the world and smiled. Harry would do anything to help the war effort, yet he would always put herself and her needs first. "I don't even know if he likes me, Harry."

Harry deftly pulled the car back onto the road, flipping some guy in a truck the finger when he blasted his car horn at them in annoyance. "He likes you Hermione." Harry reassured her. "Trust me. I've seen how he looks at you. He definitely wants you. Although," Harry ground out, "he better want a real relationship with you and not just want to sleep with you. He will pay big time if that is the case."

Hermione smiled as Harry looked at road and placed her hand over his that was loosely holding the steering wheel and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She loved it when he went all avenging angel and defender of honour. "Harry, don't go all smiting angel on me." She chided, but they both knew she didn't mean it.

*

"So he died with no visible signs on his body at all? Are you sure it wasn't just old age?"

"Harry!" Hermione whacked her brother around the head, hard. It had been a couple of weeks since they had met with Bobby and they were searching for a new hunt. They were currently in Nevada and had just had a great time exercising Harry's bank account at the casinos. But after a week or two, Harry had become twitchy. Hermione immediately began to search for a new Hunt and thought she had found one worth investigating. It was in Stagecoach, on the California Emigrant Trail.

"He was 47, Harry. That isn't very old."

"Fine." Harry rolled his eyes, but inside he was excited. He loved to Hunt and this none sounded interesting and might present more of a challenge than the salt-and-burns they had been stuck doing recently. "God, I hate small towns."

A couple of hours later, they were checking into the town's only motel. They got ridiculous amounts of stares as they drove through the small town. It was like these people had never seen a sports car before. But Hermione had to remind Harry that most of them probably hadn't. They didn't stay long in the rooms they had booked in the slightly dated motel. They changed into business suits and proceeded to the Coroner's office. Harry was very eager to get started on this case. He was like a child in a candy store.

"So, Dave had an English great uncle, eh?" The Coroner said as he led them to the body of the late David Stalling. "None of us knew that."

"Neither did he, Sir." Harry said politely. They had told the Coroner that Harry was from the British Embassy and that Hermione was his assistant. Harry had used magic to show fake IDs. But the Coroner had just believed the story that he had been fed – that Harry worked for the Embassy and was searching for lost family members of a dead British business man. They had told him that they had gotten wind of David Stalling and that he had died and that they were required to confirm the cause of death for their records.

It was the most unbelievable story that Harry had ever made up, but the man before him (and everyone else in town) seemed to take the lie at face value and believed it so far. Harry had no jurisdiction here, either in real life or the fiction cover he had created, but these people were going out of their way to give Harry whatever he wanted. Hermione put it down to Harry's air of authority that demanded obedience.

"So, any suspects?" Harry bluntly asked. Seeing the man's slightly surprised look, Harry continued. "We both know that there is no reason he should be dead. So, find anything?"

"Well," the Coroner was hesitant, but continued, "I found some finger prints on his chest from one of the boys in town. But the local police already spoke to him. He was with his friends that night and said his finger prints got onto the victim when he bumped into him earlier and they both fell down. There is no reason to suspect him, except –"

"Except……" Harry demanded the Coroner continue.

"Well, there was a rumour when the boy was born that Dave was his father, but the lad's mother never admitted who the Daddy was. The rumours stopped but have recently been going around again. You know what small towns are like."

"Not really. I come from London, so small towns are a mystery to me." Harry amiably shrugged. "If the boy was his son, then we will need to investigate this."

The Coroner nodded eagerly. The town was always a boring place where little happened, so people from a different state would be interesting enough. A person from a different country was guaranteed to keep the gossip going for months at least.

"The lad, Jeremy Mitchell, is part of the teenage group around here." Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion. "There is an abandoned house about 20 minutes down the main road that most of the teenagers from this town go to. I don't know what they do there, but I think they listen to gothic rock music and all that rubbish. I know Jeremy is into the occult." The Coroner shrugged this off as insignificant.

Harry looked down at the middle aged man on the metal table in front of him. There were no visible signs of, well, anything. The man seemed to be in good health and there as no bruising or other signs of trauma. It was mystery how he died, but Harry could feel something off about this man. Subtly raising his right hand, he connected with the power of the Resurrection Stone. He was suddenly hit by a wave of energy as he connected with the imprint of the soul that had previously occupied the body. Damn, this was bad.

Back at the motel, Hermione barged into Harry's room after they had changed out of the suits and demanded to know what he had found. "The soul was almost…..ripped from the body." Harry frowned as he tried to explain. "But it was done in an untalented and rough way."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that we are dealing with a wannabe necromancer." Harry lay back on his bed, arms threw behind his head. "Damn, I hate dealing with necromancers. They have no idea what they are dealing with. Now, if you excuse me," Harry closed his eyes and relaxed into the bed, "I'm going to get some sleep and we can pick up some leads on that Jeremy guy."

*

"So, this guy has no visible signs of trauma that could account for why he died?"

"No, none at all. I can't really see why the Feds are interested in this. We're just a small town and this is the only suspicious death." Dean looked over at the Coroner as he frowned at them in confusion.

Putting on his charming and confident smile, Dean reassured the man. "Federal Agents are here to protect the people in this country. We feel that Mr Stalling's death requires investigation."

"Right." The Coroner still looked dubious for a moment, before an excited look appeared on his face. "Does this have anything to do with that charming and well spoken British man that has come here, claiming Dave had some kind of grand inheritance and that he is from the British Embassy?"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "We can't comment on that Sir." Sam smiled politely at the man. "Thank you for your time."

"So, some guy appears just after a man dies suddenly, even though he was in perfect health." Sam said as they left the office and got into the waiting Impala. "Seems a little bit suspicious."

"Damn, I hate small towns. Gossip spreads like nobody's business." Dean muttered as they drove to their motel (the only one in town) and got many stared from the people they passed. "So, I was thinking maybe it could be witches. You know, the Coroner mentioned something about the local teenagers being into the occult. Could be an experiment gone wrong."

"It could be." Sam agreed. He frowned as he looked at their motel. "Hey, this is the only motel in town isn't it?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well," Sam slowly explained as if speaking to a child, which caused his brother to glare at him. "this guy must be staying here then, if he is staying in this town. It is worth investigating."

"Good idea Sammy" Dean closed the door on his car and looked towards the motel office with a smirk. "The receptionist was pretty hot you know. And she liked my smile."

"Right." Sam muttered, shaking his head. As Dean wandered off to flirt with the receptionist, Sam opened the trunk of the car and subtly loaded some guns with bullets. This guy could be innocent, but they had to make sure before they followed another lead.

"The guy is in room 13." Dean hurried back and pulled his tie and suit jacket off. He accepted the gun from Sam and held it hidden by his side. They silently made their way to the room, noting that it was the furthest away from the office. The light was out in the room and Sam made quick work of picking the lock.

Dean cautiously entered the room, his gun raised and Sammy closely following him. The door slammed shut behind them and their guns were ripped out of their hands. Hearing a grunt of pain, Dean shouted his brother's name, only to be slammed into the wall by a dark figure. Dean tried to make out who – or what- it was as he struggled against the vice like grip that was keeping him pinned to the wall.

The light suddenly flicked on as the door reopened and closed. Hermione stood there, her mouth open as she took in the scene before her. Sam Winchester was on the ground, looking dazed and holding a bloody nose. Even now, Hermione could see one of his eyes was rapidly bruising. Harry had Dean pinned against the wall, his body pressed against him and his hands pinning Dean's wrists in place as he struggled against the strength of her brother.

"Oh." Harry looked over at Sam on the floor and his gaze snapped back to Dean. "It's just you Winchesters."

"Erm," Dean shifted his weight, only now seeming to realise what position he and the angel were in. "Think you could let me go?"

Harry took in the uncomfortable look on Dean's face and smirked. He was pissed at being woken up in such a rude way. He had thought it was a demon or something else trying to kill him and he was ready for a fight, the adrenaline pumping. But know he knew it was the Winchesters, his anger turned into mischief. "I don't know. I'm kind of enjoying this position."

"Harry, just get off him." Hermione berated, before freezing and realising that she had called Harry by his real name. She would never have normally slipped, but she had woken up to screeching from the ward they had set around their rooms to alert them to intruders.

Pulling back from the elder Hunter, Harry looked at Hermione and smiled reassuringly, letting her know that it was ok and he held no grudge for her slip. Continuing as though nothing had happened, Harry demanded to know why the Winchesters were breaking into his room.

"We were investigating the suspicious death in town and heard about some British guy that arrived just after the death." Sam answered shortly, smiling softly as Hermione helped him up off the floor and to sit on the bed.

Hermione looked at her brother imploringly, who rolled his eyes before stalking towards Sam. Gently holding his face, Harry concentrated and healed the damaged that he himself had inflicted. "Well, obviously it wasn't me. It was a wannabe necromancer."

"Ok." Dean watched closely as the angel healed his brother. He hadn't failed to notice Hermione's slip, but he was going to let it go. For now at least. "So, how are we going to do this? We aren't going to give up this hunt and I don't think you will either."

Harry stood up straight and looked Sam over once more, making sure he hadn't missed any damage. "Yeah, I think I can deal with working with you. So, there is a cult of teenagers just outside town. We should go and check that out."

"Ok." Dean noticed how the angel – he wasn't sure if he should call him Harry or Ezekiel – got straight down to business.

"Hermione, take my car and you and Sam drive out to the house they are supposedly in." Harry threw his keys to Hermione, receiving a nod in agreement. "Dean and I will follow in their car. That ok with you?"

Dean saw the challenge in the intense green gaze and refused to be beaten by it. He didn't know why, but the angel managed to bring out the competitive side of him. "Fine. Go with her Sammy. We'll be behind you."

Sam looked at his brother and nodded silently. Following Hermione out of the door, he stopped when he heard a voice calling him back. He turned around and saw the angel's eyes were hard and cold. The voice sent shivers down his spine.

"Let anything happen to my sister and I will track you down to the end of the Earth and nothing will stop me from hurting you. Nothing."

*

The car was silent as Hermione pulled out of the car parking lot. Sam stared at her, trying to figure it out. The angel – Harry, Ezekiel or whatever he was called- had called her his sister, which was something that Sam couldn't work out. From what he had seen, the woman next to him was just an ordinary person. Well, as ordinary as a Hunter could be.

"Just ask me."

Sam looked up in surprise and looked at the brunette next to him. Her eyes never left the road, but her grip had tightened on the steering wheel and her posture betrayed how tense she was.

"Why did he call you his sister?" Sam guardedly asked. "I thought you and he were…..well, erm…..dating?"

"No." Hermione's answer was short. "He is my brother. I was just pretending we were together because I wanted to shock you. You did just wake me up in the middle of the night."

"Are you angel?" Sam's voice was quiet.

Hermione relaxed slightly and gave a small smile. "No. I know it is hard to understand, but I've known Harry for years. He is like a brother to me in all but blood. We are all each other have left – except Castiel, of course."

"I don't think I fully understand and probably never will, but I know what you mean when you say that you only have each other. Dean and I, we only have each other since our Dad died." Sam's voice was quiet and when he met Hermione's eye, a shy smile graced his features.

*

"So….." Dean spoke over the silence in the car. They had left the motel about 10 minutes after Sam and Hermione and there had been quiet reigning in the car since. Sighing, Dean decided to be blunt. "So you aren't banging Hermione?"

Harry hissed in anger, causing the hair to rise on the back of Dean's neck. He suddenly realised that he had definitely said the wrong thing. "That is my sister you are talking about, you bastard."

"Sorry." Dean looked over at him, and Harry saw the sincerity in his gaze. "I'm just a little, you know, confused."

"Hermione is my sister in all but blood. I have known her for years and she is all I have left, besides Castiel. I would do anything to save and protect her." Harry's gaze was cold and hard. "Anything."

Dean looked over at the angel next to him. This was the kind of angel he had been expecting – one that would be all avenging and want to protect humans, not help get rid of him. Castiel was off on his quest to find God and all the other angels were just dicks, in Dean's opinion. "And what do you want to be call – Ezekiel or Harry?"

Harry smiled. "Whatever you want to call me. I know that you don't understand right now, but I'm sure that I'll explain everything to you." Harry's smiled turned into a impish smirk. "Maybe."

Dean sent a glare at the angel next to him. "Fine." He huffed. "I'll just call you Harry for now then. At least it is more normal sounding than _Ezekiel._"

Harry gave a laugh that died off as soon as he saw the building come into sight. It was a rundown house – but Harry would describe it as more of a shack than anything else. It looked ready to fall down with one good gust of wind. Harry looked around for Hermione and Sam, but couldn't see them anywhere. He saw his beautiful car, but his sister and the hunter were nowhere to be seen.

Frowning, Harry silently signalled Dean and they both quietly moved around to the door. Counting down on his hand, Harry gave the signal to storm inside. It wasn't the best plan, by either Harry or Dean's standards, but they both trusted in Harry's abilities. This was ironic for Dean, who would never normally trust anyone except himself and his brother. He had no idea why he would suddenly trust Harry and his sister, especially considering that most angels he had met were such bastards.

Pushing the door open, they both stormed inside and took in the scene before them. Sam was tied to a column and was slumped over slightly. He had a small trail of blood running down his head, indicating that he had been hit hard to incapacitate him. Hermione was tied to a chair in the centre of an intricate occult design painted on the floor.

Here a scuffle behind him, Harry saw that Dean was fighting three men. He managed to get some good punches in but lost his gun when a fourth man joined the fight. The man who had wrestled the gun from Dean turned it on Harry, who sighed and dropped the gun he was holding. A gothic girl ran forward and quickly picked it up. Dean was dragged to where Sam was tied up and was restrained there with his brother.

"So." A man – or rather a teenage boy- who was wearing all black and too much eyeliner, in Harry's opinion, stepped forward and was looking Harry up and down. "You are the British man everyone is talking about."

"That would be me." Harry gave a mock bow and salute, which just seemed to piss the teenager off.

"You have no idea what you are getting into here. You just had to come and investigate." The boy's voice raised in annoyance. "Now, we're gonna have to kill you."

"Like you killed David Stalling." Harry's voice and posture was casual, almost as though he were having a conversation about the weather, not the supernatural murder of a middle aged man. "You're just going to have to accept that he didn't want or care about you."

"You fucking bastard!" Jeremy screamed. "He had no idea about the things I could do! I'm powerful and could control life and death!"

"Yeah, yeah." Harry stood straighter and become serious suddenly. "You are the one who really has no idea what you are doing, Jeremy. You are playing with things that you don't understand."

"Don't do that!" Jeremy shouted, his voice shaking in anger. "Don't talk to me like I'm some stupid kid!" He turned to look at Hermione, who was watching her brother. "I'll deal with her later. And those two." He gestured towards the Winchester brothers, who continued to struggle even harder against their bonds. "But you," the Goth snarled at Harry, "You, I'll deal with right now."

Harry watched as Jeremy began to chant in ancient Greek, the words flowing smoothly together. Harry had to admit that the kid was good and his Greek was almost flawless. Sighing, because he really hated what he was about to do, but he knew he had no choice. Now that Jeremy had gotten a taste for Necromancy he wouldn't let it go. He would be driven to continue by the need to feel more and more power that he could gain from the black art.

Harry looked sadly at Hermione, who could see the anguish in her brother's eyes. She knew Harry could find no other way to stop the teenager and smiled at him to show that she understood and stood by his decision. She could feel the building of magic energy as Harry allowed it to pool in the palms of his hands. Pushing the energy outwards, but making sure to shield herself and the Winchesters, Harry released the stunner and knocked out all the members of the cult, except Jeremy.

Jeremy stumbled over his chanting and stopped completely when all the other teenagers fell to the floor, unconscious. He looked from the prone figures on the floor to Harry and back again. His shock turned to fear as Harry stepped towards his slowly.

Dean struggled against the ropes that held him against the column. He was annoyed at himself for getting into this position, but there was nothing he could do. He became still when Harry made the entire cult, except the kid – Jeremy – pass out. Sure, he'd seen angels knock people out before, but never this many and certainly never without touching them.

"What – How- What the hell are you?!" Dean watched as Jeremy desperately tried to find an exit ad Harry slowly stalked towards him. But there was no escape from the currently emotionless angel.

He watched as Harry raised his right hand, and the ring there glowed with an eerie light. He watched as Jeremy fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. "No." Jeremy moaned. "Please don't take my soul. Please."

Dean's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair as he watched the angel clench his hand shut. Jeremy's body fell to the floor and remained still. Harry had his eyes closed and seemed to be in deep concentration. A shadowy outline of a man appeared before him, before fading away silently.

Harry took a deep breath and waved his hand at the Winchesters, releasing them from their bindings. He stalked over to Hermione and physically untied her from the chair. He was about to turn away from her, but she darted up and grabbed his face gently.

Dean saw Hermione force the angel to meet her gaze. Harry stared at her for a moment, before pulling the shorter woman into a tight hug. Dean saw the emotions running over the angels face before he buried it in his sister's neck. He watched as Hermione ran a soothing hand up and down the angels back, muttering reassurances to him. He never thought he would see an angel looking so vulnerable.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry knocked back another Fire Bomb shooter and made a face as it burned its way down the back of his throat. Signalling the barman to give him another, Harry rolled his eyes at the look of disapproval that Hermione was shooting him. Smiling as another slammer was placed in front of him; Harry finally turned to his sister and asked what was wrong.

"Harry." Hermione moved closer so that they wouldn't be overheard. "We are here on a job. A Hunting job. Now isn't the time for drinking and getting lucky."

"Hermione, you need to relax and enjoy life a bit more. It is short enough – what with the Apocalypse happening and all." Harry added sarcastically. "And I wasn't going to 'get lucky', even if the barman is pretty hot." Harry looked past Hermione and smirked as the barman looked him up and down in an appreciative way.

"Concentrate Harry." Hermione scolded in a decidedly mother-hen way. Harry just gave her a look that said he was concentrating. "I mean on the case Harry, not the barman."

"Fine." Harry grinned and physically turned away from the hot guy behind the bar and gave his full attention to his sister. "So, what have we got so far?"

"Four women so far have been killed. There are no signs of trauma, injury or any other physical reason they should be dead."

"None at all?" Harry asked incredulously. He frowned and looked over at the dark sea, which glistened as light from the bright moon shined over the surface. They were currently on the pier at Cocoa beach, in Florida. They had been to the police station earlier and had looked through the case files. Well, Hermione had read the files (and probably memorised all the information down to the exact wording) and Harry had sweet talked the female officer that was accompanying them through the station. "I hope we aren't dealing with witches or necromancers again. I'm already getting a headache – I don't need a bigger one."

Hermione snorted. "That would be because of all the slammers that you have had, Harry. Not the case. How many have you had anyway?"

Harry pouted, making him look like a teenager, in Hermione's opinion. "I've only had half a dozen or so. You know muggle drinks have barely any effect on us. I just have to drink more to feel any effect." Harry whinged.

"Whatever Harry." Looking at the man before her, Hermione couldn't believe that he was the same person as the bespectacled, skinny and abused boy that she had first met 12 years ago aboard the Hogwarts' Express. He had gained confidence, as well as maturing physically. Shaking the nostalgic thoughts from her mind, she quickly refocused on the task at hand. "Well, the thing is – all of the women had infants that are less than 4 months old. And they each had a different organ missing."

Harry absorbed all the information that Hermione was telling him, piecing it all together and mentally ticking off the clues to try and get a mental picture of what they were hunting. It was the missing organs that rang bells in Harry's mind. "It could be an Al. I remember reading about them a few years ago, but we never came across one, so I have never needed to remember all the facts. What I do know is a little fuzzy."

"Ok." Hermione nodded. "I'll look through the books that we have and make some notes in the morning."

Harry grinned. "Great. That means there is time for some tequila slammers!"

"Damn it man!" Dean moaned to his brother as he slammed the door of their motel room closed. Throwing down his weapons bag, he turned and glared at his brother. "I hate hunting wendigos."

Sam rolled his eyes and ignored his brother's evil looks as he pulled off the tie and suit jacket. They had been interviewing the local cops and witnesses all day and had finally pieced together all the evidence. It pointed to one thing – a wendigo.

"Dean, get over it. We're gonna have to hunt it anyway, so stop whining." Sam riffled through his duffle bag and pulled out some clean jeans and a t-shirt. "I'm having a shower."

"Fine." Dean began to change out of the suit he was wearing. "We'll go and grab something to eat when you're done. Just don't spend too much time washing your hair, Samantha." He called after his younger brother sarcastically.

Sam glared over his shoulder at his grinning brother. "Jerk." Slamming the door and wincing slightly at the brightness of the tiles and paint, he heard his brother shout 'Bitch' at him. Smiling and shaking his head, Sam quickly showered and got changed into his clean clothes.

Dean was channel surfing when he got out of the shower, still towel drying his dripping hair. Dean looked over at him and rolled his eyes, muttering about girls and long hair. Which of course, Sam ignored. Balling up the wet towel, Sam got his revenge on his older brother when the towel hit Dean slap bang in the middle of his face, right on target.

"You are such a bitch man!" Dean glared his Sam as he gripped his sides and his repressed laughter managed to escape. "Come on, I'm gonna go and get some food from that diner down the road. You coming or what?"

Sam found it difficult to keep a straight face every time he looked at the pissed look on his brother's face. It had been such a long time since they had been able to truly laugh and joke with each other. For Sam, it was a sign that they were slowly beginning to repair their fractured relationship.

Sam was finally pulled from his deep thoughts when the waitress leaned closer to him and batted her eyelashes at him. Sam swallowed nervously and edged away from the overbearing woman. "Erm……I'll have the special and a coke please."

Dean rolled his eyes at his younger brother and finally took pity on him. Giving the waitress a winning and flirty smile which caused her to ignore Sam and concentrate fully on his older brother, Dean gave his order. "Oh," Dean added. The woman looked hopeful. "I want a piece of pie as well. That's everything. Thanks, sweetheart."

The woman nodded and walked away to put their order in, seemingly disappointed. Sam shook his head and turned to see a smug smirk on Dean's face. Scowling, he quickly defended himself, knowing what his brother was thinking. "Dude, come on! She has to be at least forty!"

Dean just continued to grin. "She isn't that bad looking Sammy."

"Sam." Sam automatically corrected. "And I'm not like you – I don't sleep with anything that has a pulse."

Dean glared at the insult, but it switched to a sly smile as a thought struck him. "Or maybe you are just thinking about one person in particular. A certain brunette."

"Dean." Sam sighed, but didn't say anything else. As hard as he tried, he couldn't keep the blush from creeping up his neck and over his face. He looked away from his brother.

Dean saw the blush and was about to rib his brother more, when Sammy looked away without comment. Sighing, Dean shifted uncomfortably. Damn, he hated chick-flick moments. "Look Sam." Dan paused until his brother forced himself to meet his eye. "I'm not good at the whole emotional sharing thing. I have enough trouble with my own emotions, let alone anyone else's. But we really need to talk."

"What do you want me to say Dean?" Sam shifted in his seat when the waitress brought their drinks over. Receiving no returning smile from Dean, she huffed away. Sam watched her go and fiddled with his drink.

"Damn it Sammy." Dean sounded tired. "I know life is screwed up at the moment. But you really like this girl. Don't deny yourself something good."

Sam raised his head and stared at his brother. "Life isn't just 'screwed up' at the moment. We are in the middle of the Apocalypse!"

Dean gave the waitress a glare as she looked at Sam as though he was crazy. She placed their orders on the table and hurried away, throwing them strange looks over her shoulder. "Are you really going to give up already? What the hell are we going to the trouble of saving the Goddamn world if you aren't going to live?"

"Stop trying to make it simple! It is so far from it." Sam slammed his drink down; ignoring the death glare the waitress sent him. "Everyone we get close to dies or get s injured – Mom, Dad, Pastor Jim, Caleb, Bobby, Jess…..." Sam trailed off and averted his eyes away from his brother.

Dean stared at him, trying to find something to say to make it better, but the truth was nothing could make it right. From before they were born, their family had been cursed. Still, Dean had to try for Sammy's sake. There was no way he was going to let him give up on life, because he might as well accept Lucifer's offer. "Dude, I know are lives aren't the best, but sometimes we need something to fight for. We need more than just each other in our lives. I'm not gonna sit here and let you throw away something amazing. I won't." Sam looked up at his brother and saw the determination in his gaze when he said that vow. He was about to reply, when he was cut off by ringing.

"Yeah?" Dean answered his phone, a confused look across his features. "Erm, sure. We should be finished up by tomorrow evening. Drop by then." Dean nodded to himself a few time, before quickly saying goodbye and putting his phone away. "That was Cas. He is going to stop by tomorrow night. He says that it isn't too important and can wait."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "He normally just stops by unannounced. Why is he calling all of a sudden?"

"I have no idea." Dean looked thoughtful. "Maybe Harry is teaching him how to be more like a person."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, and Harry sure knows how to blend in and live like a human. He acts just like human guys his age act. How old do you think he is anyway?"

Dean frowned considerately. "Angels are quite old. Cas said something about their life spans being much longer than humans' because time works differently for them. Something about the time scale being different. But I guess Harry is old by our standards."

Sam gave his brother a look that Dean couldn't decipher. "So, not too old for you then?"

Dean gaped. "What the hell does that mean Sam?"

"You know." Sam shook his head at his brother's dumb look. "I've seen you check him out Dean. And the way you look at him and the way you talk to and about him."

"Dude! No!" Dean protested. "I just respect him is all. He seems ok for an angel, not like the other dicks. I don't like him that way – I'm completely straight."

"Sure Dean." Sam rolled his eyes. "Then why don't you treat Cas the same way you treat Harry? And does it really matter what gender he is? Why give up something good just because he is male?" Sam threw his brother's words back at him.

Dean clenched his jaw and looked away from the earnest express on his brother's face. Dean didn't even realise the way he was acting around Castiel's angelic nephew, but now that he looked back on it, he could see that Sammy did have a point. Hell, if Harry had been female, he would have tried it on with him by now. Dean had never really thought about another guy that way before – except for a little bit of experimentation when he was 16 with a guy in his math class back at one of the many high schools he had attended. But that was just a bit of kissing and groping.

Dean decided to be honest with himself – just for a few minutes. He remembered all the random thoughts about how good-looking Harry was, and finding his actions funny. At the time, he thought it was just because Harry didn't act like any kind of angel Dean had ever met before. Now, with startling clarity, Dean came to the shocking realisation that he had a crush on Harry, the Lord's Seraphim. Surprisingly, it wasn't the fact that he fancied a guy that scared the hell out of him, or the fact that that guy was an angel. No, what scared him more than anything was being in a long term relationship. Dean never did more than one night stands and didn't know how to be in a relationship.

It was with that thought that Dean decided. He decided that no matter how much he liked Harry (and Dean was ready to admit even to himself how deep these alien emotions seemed to go), he wasn't going to do anything about it. Sam wanted to be with Hermione, Harry's sister. If he screwed up with the angel – something Dean admitted was a probable event – then it could affect his baby brother's happiness.

"Sam." Dean's voice was strained. "We aren't talking about this right now. We have a wendigo to kill before Cas gets here tomorrow evening, ok?"

Sam took in his brother's hard gaze and the slightly defeated slump in his shoulders and nodded without argument.

Harry smirked as a set of lips crashed down over his own. He deepened the kiss and ran his hands down the sides of the woman, letting his hands rest on her hips. Moans vibrated through his chest and the woman pushed closer to him. Moving forwards and pushing the woman with him, Harry fumbled for his keys and pushed the door open. Quickly manoeuvring them inside and closing the door, he slammed the woman against the wall and pressed into her. She groaned again and let her hands wander under his shirt as his mouth trailed down her neck.

"Bedroom?" Harry's voice was laced heavily with desire and was slightly breathless. The woman nodded her head quickly, only to let out a loud moan when Harry ground against her, her back arching into him.

Pulling away, Harry led her through a set of doors and into an almost empty room. There was a table pushed against one wall and the opposite one was lined with bookcases. Leading the woman to the centre of the room, Harry spun around and gave her a hard kiss that left her breathless before stepping away. She tried to follow him, but was stopped by an invisible force. Looking down, she saw a painted symbol on the floor that was mirrored on the ceiling.

"What the hell is this?" She tried her best to look innocent and afraid, but she could tell by the look on Harry's face that he wasn't buying it. "Let me out you bastard!"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, but I can't do that Candace. I know what you are and what you have been doing to those women."

Candace smirked at the man in front of her. "Ah yes. The daughters of Eve. They were so weak – they couldn't do anything to stop me. All I had to do was kill them and then sit back and watch their husbands fall to pieces. How the sons of Adam could prefer those pathetic _women_ over my kind is unbelievable!"

"Maybe it is the vengeful aspect to your personality." Harry's voice was quiet.

"Yeah right." Candace's voice was scoffing. "They just couldn't stand a partner that was their equal in everyway. They couldn't take the fire or the passion or the strength we have."

Harry looked the Al over. He had to admit, she was very attractive. Her hair was blonde and she has a figure that made him sit up and beg, in more than one way. And he had to admit that no human had the same passion and fire an Al had. But they used that blaze to enact vengeance against the daughters of Eve for Adam's rejection of them.

"You know killing those women was wrong – they were innocent. And you knew that you would have to pay for those sins. The Lord decreed it centuries ago."

Candace slumped forward slightly in defeat. "I know." Her voice was quiet. "I've been living among humans for centuries, taking the lives of those women who do not deserve to bear the children of Adam – those that hurt or abuse or abandon their children. But I can't take it anymore. I can't stand looking around at everything that I can't have. I want to move on. I thought a Hunter would have found me by now." Candace looked Harry in the eye, her blue eyes hard. "I am sorry for killing _innocent_ women, but not for what I am."

"I understand. It is your nature." Harry stepped into the trap he had set for the Al, careful to not break any of the lines and give her an opportunity to escape. "I can make it so you feel no pain."

Candace placed a hand on Harry's chest. "You are different. You feel like a son of Adam, yet also angelic. I like you." Candace admitted, her gaze truthful. "But I have been around humans and Angels and demons for a long time. I have seen their never ending war on each other. And God doesn't care. He watches the pain and suffering that his children inflict on one another and he does not one thing to help any of them."

"You are right. I am both Angel and human, but I have never met God. Death I have met a few times, but I have never seen the afterlife, merely the transition place between life and death."

The Al looked saddened. "I'm glad to leave this world behind. Look at what is happening – the Apocalypse! And where is the Almighty God? He has given up on us all and is just waiting for everyone to kill each other off so he can start again. That way, it isn't him destroying us – it is ourselves. If the puppet master is gone long enough, we all know we will obliterate each other into oblivion – and he knows that as well."

"I'm not trying to help for _God. _I'm doing it for all the people that I love – purely selfish reasons. There is nothing noble about what I'm doing. I would do _anything_ for those that I care about."

The Al gave Harry a winning smile. "That is a very good reason. Now I can see why you understand – you have given so much to people (just like I gave everything to Adam) and then they want more and when you can't give any more, they throw you away. Live selfishly." The Al shuffled closer to Harry. "You said it would be painless? Because I'm ready to leave."

Harry raised a hand and gently placed it on Candace's cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Harry opened his bright emerald eyes and whispered softly to Candace. "I'm sorry it has to be this way, but death is peaceful." Harry softly kissed Candace, and deepened it as he concentrated on the Hallows. Harry felt Candace's soul leave without protest and suddenly he was in a circle on his own. Touching lips, Harry shook his head and left the room to find his sister.

"Sam. Dean."

The brother's spun around quickly, each raising a gun and pointing it at the source of the noise. They slowly lowered them once they saw that it was Castiel, who was patiently stood watching them. Shoving the gun back under the pillow on his bed, Dean pulled on the t-shirt he was about to wear when Castiel appeared.

Sam continued drying his wet hair, and looked the angel over. The trench coat that he constantly wore was missing, and Sam suddenly felt its loss. It was once item that both of the Winchester brothers has come to associate with the angel of the Lord, and Castiel seemed……..almost vulnerable without it. "What happened to your coat?"

Castiel looked at Sam and then down at himself, almost in surprise. "It was damaged beyond my ability to repair it. Ezekiel has promised to replace it for me. He, like you, seems…….upset at its loss."

"Yeah, well Harry obviously understands that you look strange without it." Dean replied, settling himself on his bed, leaning up against the headboard.

Castiel froze and turned towards Dean. His expression went blank and he gazed down at the Hunter reclining on the bed. "How do you know that name?"

Dean glanced at his brother, confused. "Erm, he told us?"

"Why would he mention it to you?" Castiel narrowed his eyes. "What else did he tell you?"

"Nothing! Only that Hermione was his sister in everything but blood." Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed so he was fully sitting up. "Dude, what is up with you? What is wrong with us knowing that name?"

"Ezekiel should not be telling you meaningless information such as that name." Castiel had looked away from the brothers and was looking nonchalant, which made them suspicious. Castiel had never worn such an expression before. "The name holds little meaning."

"Right." Dean answered slowly, watching Castiel's expression very closely. He could see a minute muscle clench in the angel's jaw. "So, what is with the name? Is it the name of his vessel or something like that?"

Castiel finally met the brother's gazes, even if it was icily and only for a moment. "It is something like that. That is hardly the matter here – I have come to tell you how my search is going."

Dean stood up. "Well. It must be important of you are here." He suddenly became stiff. "You haven't found Him have you?"

"No." Castiel's answer was simple and to the point. Dean slumped and sat back down on the edge of the bed. "I am merely here to inform you how my search is going. It is important for humans to know what is happening due to emotional attachments you form. Ezekiel has advised me that I should keep you personally informed about my quest."

"How…thoughtful of him." Sam searched for the right words to say. "How is he anyway?"

"He was using his body to trap an Al that had been killing young mothers." Castiel frowned. "He has promised me that we will discuss his sins once I have found our Father, but I feel that I should try to communicate with him sooner. I am unsure about the situation – his rank means he has much higher authority than I possess, yet I am his uncle and so there is an intrinsic authority that I have over him."

"Err……" Sam was at a complete loss as how he should reply, and glancing at Dean he could see that his brother was just deciphering what Castiel had said. He saw the wince from his older brother when Castiel had mentioned Harry using sex as a weapon to trap the Al.

"I must leave. My search must continue." Castiel nodded to the two brothers and silently disappeared, leaving two confused Hunters behind.

Harry drained the last dregs from his bottle of beer and set it down on the table in front of him, where he had his feet propped up. Hermione was curled up next to him, watching him in silence as he polished of his beer. She was silently waiting for him to tell her what had happened with the Al. They had found out who it was and had set a trap for her. Hermione had discovered a trap that would hold her once she was inside it.

When Harry had first proposed his plan, Hermione had flat out said no. She didn't want to put Harry in such an intimate position with a murderous Al, but Harry soon reminded her that he had been a key player in the War – hell, he had been the _main _player in the War – and that he had much more power that a simple Al could have.

So, Hermione had agreed and had even managed to be supportive of the plan when Harry was telling Castiel about it when he dropped by to see how they were doing and looking to see if Harry had picked anything up from the other angels that Castiel himself could have missed. Now, Hermione was regretting letting Harry even think of such a stupid plan, let alone follow through with it.

"The thing she said….." Harry's soft voice startled Hermione making her jump and causing Harry to look down at her. His gaze was a mixture of sadness and confusion. "She said that God knew what was happening and that he is letting it so he can just start over. That way, he hasn't raised a vengeful hand at humanity and won't tarnish his 'purity'."

Hermione had no idea what to say. She had been raised in the muggle world, and had even gone to a Catholic primary school before she attended Hogwarts, but her parents had never really believed in God. She was saved from having to think of a reply when Harry continued. "How can I believe that God cares when he allowed my mother to give up being an angel, only for her to be murdered? And where the hell is he? He has allowed his angels to ally themselves with demons from the deepest pits of hell!"

Harry fell silent, his anger dying down. He slumped further into the couch. "I will do anything to save humanity from the Apocalypse – not for the glory of God, but for humans. They deserve someone to stand up for them, and if God isn't going to do it – we'll just have to do it ourselves!"

"Harry –" Hermione's voice was quiet, but she stopped suddenly because of the appearance of Harry's angelic Uncle. She was grateful because she had no idea what she was actually going to say.

Castiel's expression was serious, and a frown appeared on his features when he observed his Nephew. He always could tell when there was something wrong with Harry. Raising a single eyebrow, Castiel said, "We need to talk."


	6. Chapter 6

The moonlight streamed in through the large windows that overlooked some of the best sights New York had to offer. Being this high up gave Harry a rush of enjoyment that he hadn't had since he flew his broom. The truth was, nothing could ever come close to the adrenaline and danger fuelled Quiditch matches he used to play in, but being high up was as close as Harry was going to get here.

Harry was alone and had been for the last two days, ever since he had dropped Hermione off at the airport. Ever year, she went back to the memorial that had been set up for the War Heroes. Ron, along with the rest of the fallen Weasleys, was buried there. Hermione had even set up a memorial for her parents, even though they were still alive. She had decided to leave them in Australia with no memory of her or magic because of the continuing trouble and unrest in the magical world. And now with Hermione helping to fight the Apocalypse, it was the safest option for the Grangers. For Hermione, it was as though her parents were really dead. She could never see them, because the sight of her would break the spell. It was difficult for her, but she knew it was best for them.

Sighing as he looked over the beauty of the city at night, Harry remembered further back, to when his uncle had come and spoken to him.

"_We need to talk."_

_Harry raised an eyebrow at his uncle and saw the serious expression on his face. Turning, Harry saw that Hermione had already left the room to give them space. "So, what do you want to talk about?"_

"_You." The answer was simple, but there was force behind the words. "Your behaviour, your attitude and most of all your actions."_

"_I know what you are going to say Cas." Harry crossed his arms defiantly. "We have had this same conversation many times over the years, unless you have forgotten."_

"_We are going to have it again then." Castiel levelled a glare at his nephew. "You are an Angel of the Lord, a Seraphim of high rank. The way you behave is not correct."_

"_Damn it Castiel!" Harry stood in anger. "I don't care how I am supposed to act. I'm not going to change who I am to fit in with a load of dickheads!"_

"_Those 'dickheads' as you so crudely put are your family. A little respect is needed."_

_Harry ran a hand through his hair in annoyance. "Those….arseholes are not my family. Hermione and you are my family! I will have nothing to do with the morons that thought starting the Apocalypse was a good idea. It is no wonder my Mother couldn't wait to get away from them."_

_Castiel turned to observe the room, trying to get hold of his emotions. Harry noticed this and grabbed hold of his uncle's arms in concern. "Are you ok?"_

_Castiel looked at the floor. "I have been experiencing strong emotions recently. Normally, an Angel will allow their Vessel's soul to fade away and move on, but I wish Jimmy to have his body back when we stop the Apocalypse so he may be with his family. He is sleeping at the very back of my mind. I believe his presence has been affecting me recently and has been making me irrational."_

_Harry shook his head. "Emotions aren't irrational Cas. They make us what we are. Angels lack them and so have become misguided in what they believe is right. That is why they are willing to allow millions of humans to die so they can achieve 'paradise' faster. You should embrace those emotions Cas and use them."_

_Castiel ran a hand through his hair. With his lack of customary trench coat, this gesture made Harry realise just how much those emotions were affecting his uncle. "I am feeling…a deep fear that I have never experienced before. I worry that it is tainting me – making me somehow weak and useless."_

_Harry shook his uncle. "Don't you dare say that human emotion is weak! It is the best thing that is ever going to happen to you. Humans face trials and tribulations every single day and still come out fighting! That is something no angel can ever understand – you all live in Heaven and only come out to start havoc and Hell on Earth – literally."_

_Drawing a deep breath, Harry watched as Castiel gained control of himself. He could tell the moment he went back into 'angel mode'. Castiel's gaze became more detached and emotionally void. "I still believe that you should act in an appropriate way and conduct yourself as an angel of your rank should."_

_Harry groaned in frustration. "Fine. We will compromise. I'll act how I want most of the time – but I will become all angelic and proper when it is required of me. Ok?"_

_Castiel gave a small nod. He knew that it was the best he was going to get out of his nephew. He had discovered what Harry's life had been like before he had met him from Hermione. He was glad that Harry had managed to find some way to enjoy the life that he had been granted by his Father, even if he had to commit trivial sins along the way. Ever since meeting Harry, Castiel had been experiencing an almost alien feeling of family and protection towards Sofiel's child that he knew had nothing to do with his vessel's influence. _

"_We still need to discuss one more thing." Castiel's voice was soft and quiet. "The Winchesters."_

_Harry tensed for a moment, before forcing himself to relax. "Look, I know all about the Winchester's. That they are responsible for the first and last broken seals, Dean being Michael's vessel and every other crap thing that seems to surround them."_

"_It is not what you know about them that concerns me. It is what they know about you that has me…troubled." Castiel watched as Harry flopped back into his chair. "You told them your human name Harry. What else have you told them about yourself?"_

"_Nothing!" Harry exclaimed. Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his tired face. "It was an accident – an honest mistake that won't happen again."_

"_I should think not. The Winchesters are everything in this war – they are targets enough as it is. Once Lucifer hears about you – and I don't doubt he will discover that information soon – then he will do anything to convince you to join him. You would be putting the Winchesters in even more danger if they know anything about you."_

_Harry stared at the wall, looking everywhere other than his uncle, who was right. Harry knew it was only a matter of time before Lucifer discovered him and tried to get him to side with the Fallen Angel. Harry cared too much about Hermione to put the Winchesters in further danger. If anything were to happen to Sam, Hermione would be heartbroken. They had only known the Winchesters for a short amount of time, but Harry could see how much his sister liked the younger brother._

_Sitting up straighter, Harry coolly looked the Angel in the eye. "Fine. When I'm around the Winchesters, I will try to act as much like an Angel as I can."_

Harry turned away from the windows and the magnificent views and shook his head to focus on the present and not the conversation his uncle had forced on him. Harry had got the feeling that Castiel wanted to say more to him, but he had managed to avoid the rest of the conversation. This evasion tactic had been honed to perfection over the years with practice Harry got from avoiding Hermione's questions about how he was feeling. Harry had never been comfortable discussing intimate and private topics – like what he was feeling or pretty much anything to do with deep emotion. He put it down to his defective upbringing.

Shaking his head again as he silently thanked the Dursleys for yet another area of his life that they had managed to fuck up; Harry grabbed his wallet and slammed the door on his way out of the hotel room. He need to vent off some frustration and he was determined that he would not come back to his hotel room alone that night. It was that or break a serious amount of stuff.

_

* * *

_

Ringing.

That was the first thing Harry heard as he sat up quickly. Blinking, Harry searched around for his phone, knowing that it would be in either his jacket or jeans pocket. The trouble was: he couldn't remember which. After going to the bar last night, Harry didn't remember much beyond the point where he had hailed a taxi and stumbled into his room. The flashes of what he could remember were good though. Sighing in relief when his phone stopped ringing, Harry glanced around the room, trying to recall what had actually taken place.

There were clothes all over the floor, leading from the door to the bottom of the bed. Harry could identify his own clothes, but had no idea who the others belonged to. Looking at the bed made things come into sharp focus. Ah yes, Harry thought, a great way to vent some of his pent up frustration and yet another sin to add to his list for when Castiel found God. In fact, make that a few new sins.

Lying tangled in the sheets were a boyfriend and girlfriend. Harry had met her at the bar last night and had immediately been taken by her beauty. She was a gorgeous brunette that had a figure that was being begged to be admired in a tight red dress. She had locked eyes with Harry as soon as he had walked into the bar and with one smile; Harry knew that he was going to be bringing her back with him. What he hadn't known was that she had a boyfriend who would also be coming back with them.

When the guy – Harry couldn't remember either of their names – had come over, Harry had been about to apologise for flirting with his girlfriend, when he caught the guy looking him over in what was a most definite sexual and appreciative way. A little bit of flirting and persuasion was all it had taken before Harry whisked them both away to his hotel room in a haze of lust and alcohol.

Harry smiled as he remembered, only to curse under his breath when his phone began to ring once again. Reaching down, Harry grabbed his jacket and shook the phone out of it. The blaring lyrics of End of the World by Dead by Sunrise caused his bed mates to stir sleepily. Glaring at the screen bitchily, Harry sighed when he read the name.

"Sam Winchester." Harry made sure to keep his voice calm and indifferent. He had promised his uncle and he wouldn't break that promise unless he had to. "What do you need?"

"Erm, well…." Sam's voice was nervous. "We have a minor problem that we thought you could help us with. If you have time that is."

Harry frowned again, thinking that the Winchesters had worst timing than even himself. Or his angelic Uncle, who seemed to know when to turn up just in time to ruin Harry's fun. Harry pulled the phone away from his ear and quickly covered it so that the Winchester couldn't hear the groan that escaped him. His two friends had fully woken up and seemed to want a repeat of last night. It was tempting, but the Apocalypse waited for no one.

Glaring at them, causing them both to pout, Harry pulled away and stood clear away from the bed. Rolling his eyes as the couple continued on without him, Harry put the phone back to his ear and interrupted Sam as he was mid-rant about how helpful Harry could be. "It is alright. I will be there in a few moments. Let me know where you are."

Harry listened to the address and quickly ended the call as the two on the bed began to try and coax him back into bed with them. Harry smirked at them, but began to rummage in his bag for clothing.

_

* * *

_

Dean watched the phone as Sam quickly recited the address of their motel, making sure to include all the important information. Of course he would, it was Sammy he was talking about. Dean shook his head at his brother's optimistic view that the Angel could help him. What he did was his own fault, no one else's. Dean was about to turn away when he heard a voice calling Harry back to bed. In fact, make that two voices – one male and one female. The call was quickly ended by Harry and Dean stared down at the phone that Sam had put on the table when he had put it on loudspeaker so they could all hear.

"Dean….." Sam didn't seem to know what to say to his brother. Dean turned away with a small shake of his head, aware that Bobby was still in the room. As he turned, he jumped as Harry suddenly and silently appeared in front of him. He stumbled back, his aged heart beating in shock. Harry grabbed his arms as quick as lightening to stop him from falling down, causing tingles that had nothing to do with the shock to run up and down his body. He cautiously glanced at Harry's face and saw his luminous green eyes looking him up and down.

Letting Dean go, Harry took a step back to get a better look at the older Winchester brother. He had aged years and had become lined and grey with age. But Harry had to admit that he didn't look that bad for a man of his physical age. He was handsome, but in a different way to his younger self. He had more presence as an older man.

Steeling himself mentally, Harry easily slipped into the 'angel mode' he had been perfecting for years. It came from when he was a child and had to hide his feelings from the Dursleys and then was honed when he was older and a wizard. Being the world's most famous celebrity wizard was tough and Harry had to adapt to survive.

"Dean Winchester." Harry's voice was calm and devoid of emotion. "It would seem that you have fallen foul of a witch's curse."

"Damn right he has, the idjit." Bobby stood as the Angel was inspecting Dean. "He thought he could beat the witch at his own game and went there without backup. Damn moron."

"We were thinking Harry, could you heal him?" Sam's voice was hopeful and he was gazing at Harry with a kicked puppy expression. It was almost enough to break through the wall that Harry had mentally built, but he quickly pulled himself together. He had to be rational about this and not get sucked in by emotions.

"Ezekiel."

"What?" Dean asked stupidly.

"I would prefer to be called Ezekiel. The name Harry has….little consequence or importance."

"Erm, sure. Whatever you want." Sam was confused, because the Angel had told them they could call him either name. But right now he had more important things to worry about. "So, can you do it?"

"No." Ezekiel's voice was cold and to the point. Seeing that the younger Winchester was about to argue and question him, he quickly elaborated. "Humans are given a soul. With that soul comes your life – your time on Earth. It is your soul and yours alone. A human has the right to sell that soul to Demons and make deals with it. Or they can sell the years that they have left on this Earth. It is free will and there is nothing I can do about it."

"See. I told you he couldn't help me." Dean's shoulders slumped and Harry had to restrain himself. He couldn't allow his angelic front to crumble now.

"Why did you do such an unintelligent thing?" Harry chose his words carefully. He did want to cause anymore distress for the Hunters, but he also was trying to act like an Angel. And seeing as most Angels were tactless bastards, Harry had to balance it carefully.

Dean turned a glare on the angel, but it had no heat behind it. "I thought that I could beat the damn witch. I've always been good at poker, but that guy is something else. Stupid witch." Dean ended, muttering about baby-sacrificing witches.

"If you take into account the fact that this witch deals in years, it would be a sensible assumption to make that he is older than he would physically appear to be. Therefore, he most likely has many more years of experience than you could ever hope to achieve." Harry tried to sound formal and was pleased with the result. It looked like he was channelling his inner Ravenclaw. That thought alone almost caused him to burst into laughter, but he managed to control himself. "If you had thought about that before you did anything, then you would have taken a much more rational and safer course of action."

"Whatever dude." Dean muttered and turned away from the Angel, rubbing his chest as pain blossomed there. "I'm having a heart attack!" He suddenly exclaimed.

"No you're not." Bobby sniped, rolling his eyes at Dean's over-dramatics.

"What is it?" Dean began to panic slightly, still rubbing his chest.

"Acid reflux." Bobby shook his head. "Guys your age can't digest certain foods. You're gonna have to cut down on the cheeseburgers."

Dean slammed down the burger and began muttering to himself. He winced slightly and began to rub his chest harder. Harry had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, but did feel sympathy for Dean. He had gone from healthy and fit to old with health complaints in a mere few hours. Carefully to keep his face blank, he stepped as close to Dean as he could, which startled the man. "What the hell dude? I thought you, unlike Cas, understood the concept of _personal space!_"

Harry took a small step back from Dean, not realising he had moved so close to him in the first place. He raised his arm and placed his palm flat on Dean's chest. He forced his magic to flow through his palm and into Dean's chest, soothing the burning he could sense there. He rubbed his hand in a circular motion over where he could sense the pain, allowing his magic to gently force the acid back down and repairing the minor damage the reflux had caused.

Dean's breath caught when Harry began rubbing his chest. He was about to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, when a soothing and cool feeling emanated from the Angel's hand. The heart burn stopped and Harry opened his eyes. Dean forced himself to look away when radiant emerald green eyes met his gaze.

Harry stepped back slowly and tried to make sense of the sudden feeling blooming across his chest and in his stomach. He pushed the emotion away quickly before it could seep its way into his facial expression. He could analyse his deep emotions later, when he was alone and there wasn't some issue to deal with.

He was about to say something to the Hunters, when a chime sounded loud and clear in his head. Frowning, Harry tilted his head slightly, trying to pinpoint the origin of the sound. He had a few different wards set up that would alert him when their conditions were changed or met, but he had yet to find a spell that changed the alert sound of different wards. Harry had to do it the old fashioned way and try to sense the location of the ward that was alerting him.

Harry's eyes snapped open when he managed to pinpoint the ward in England. The only ward that was set up there was the personal ward he had secretly placed on Hermione when she had left for her yearly memorial trip. It was an empathic ward normally used on babies and small children by their parents that would alert them when the child was hurt or upset. Harry had just juiced it up slightly so that it would tell him if Hermione was becoming overwhelmed by her emotions. He wanted to be there for her when she needed him the most.

"I am urgently required elsewhere right now." Harry's comment was swift and to the point. It wasn't that he didn't want to help the Winchesters; it was just that his sister needed him and the Hunters had been sorting out supernatural issues for years without his aid. "I am confident that you will sort out this issue quickly by yourselves. I will return as soon as I am able."

The Hunters never got a chance to comment or reply as the Angel silently disappeared as though he had never been there in first place.

_

* * *

_

Harry looked down at Hermione, who was curled up on the sofa asleep. When Harry had arrived, Hermione had been at the memorial she had set up for her parents. Even though she knew that they weren't dead, she still went and told them what she had been up to in the last year. It was her way of feeling close to them.

Harry had arrived to Hermione being harassed and accosted by members of the Wizarding Media. It had only gotten worst when he arrived and they turned their cameras and stupid quick-quote-quills on him. He got annoyed very fast and sent them all flying backwards with a wave of his hand. The magnitude of power that he had shown had scared them for all a few seconds, but working in the media had obviously taken away their common sense. They began to close in on Harry and his sister, their questions buzzing loudly like a horde of angry bees. Having had enough, Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione and silently transported them back to a flat that he had in a muggle part of London.

Shaking his head at how idiotic magical people seemed to be (and he was convinced that they had gotten dumber – if that was even possible – since the last time he had been in England), Harry quietly stalked over to the kitchen and cooked a massive fry-up. Cooking had always been the one stable thing in Harry's life. When he was a child, it was the single thing that he knew he would be doing for the Dursleys everyday and it was the same when he came home from Hogwarts every summer. The Dursleys were afraid to make him do much in case the Wizards came and got them, but Harry was always happy to do the cooking for them.

Just as he was plating up the food, Hermione stumbled into the kitchen rubbing her eyes tiredly. Harry saw her frowning at the food as she sat down and he sighed as he slid a food-laden plate in front of her. "I don't want to hear one word about how unhealthy or greasy or artery clogging this food is. You need a good old fashioned hearty meal."

Hermione stared at her plate for a second before digging in with gusto. Harry chuckled and set about devouring his own meal. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner. The Winchesters have managed to get themselves into a stupid situation. Or more like Dean managed to get them into a stupid situation." Harry described Dean's aging issue to his sister.

Hermione shook her head in amusement. "Only you would find that funny Harry. I'm beginning to wonder if you have a warped sense of humour."

Harry scoffed. "Don't be stupid Hermione. Of course I do. You can't have my childhood and not have a twisted sense of humour." Harry suddenly became serious. "You will be ok won't you? I can stay as long as you need me."

Hermione polished off the last of her meal and put down her cutlery. "I don't want you to stay." Hermione told her brother curtly. She continued on, cutting off Harry's protests. "I know that you don't like being here and I'll be fine without you. I know you want to help the Winchesters. So, you go help them and I'll stay here under a glamour charm and finish with the services and memorials. I'll be on that plane at the end of next week."

Harry hesitated for a moment, but he saw the determination in Hermione's eyes. There was no way he would get his way and Hermione knew that. "Fine. But you had better be on that flight or I will come and physically transport you back to the US myself. Ok?"

Hermione smiled brightly and gave Harry a huge hug over the small table. "You had better get changed and get back to the Winchesters and see if they need your expert help."

Harry rolled his eyes before doing as Hermione requested.

_

* * *

_

Harry felt his way to where Sam was once he realised that the Winchester brothers had split up. Harry frowned when he felt Sam in a room with two other people, both of whom were witches. But one witch was a demon-deal witch and the other was a born witch. It confused Harry as to why Sam was with these two people.

The first thing Harry saw was a card table and chips. Careful to keep his face blank and his Angel persona up, Harry ignored everything else in the room as he reclined back in an empty chair at the card table. Once he was seated, he looked around and almost swore in frustration. Sam was at the table playing the born-witch and looking worst for wear.

"Nice bluff." The witch said. Harry looked closer and felt him out with his Angelic powers. He didn't want to risk using magic right now in case the witch thought he was being tricked. If he thought for one second that this was some kind of trap, then he would end the game and Sam would be in the same, if not worst, situation as Dean. Frowning, Harry leaned forward as the witch finally turned to him.

"Looks like you brought a little friend Sam." The witch smiled at Harry. "I'm Patrick."

"I am Ezekiel."

Patrick's eyes widened slightly as he heard the name. Harry could see that he was connecting the strange power the witch could feel from Harry with the Angelic name and was getting close to the truth. Well, a truth that was complicated. "So, Sam here has Angels routing for him. That wasn't something I was expecting. But know that there is nothing you can do. Sam and Dean both knew what they were getting into and willing bet their years."

"I am aware of that."

"Good. We should continue the game then." Patrick once again turned to Sam. "If we had time, I could make a real player out of you."

"I got time." Sam muttered.

Patrick gave a smile, but Harry could see a sad edge to it. "Maybe. But I can't say the same for Dean. Your brother's gonna be dead soon. And when I say soon, I mean minutes." Sam jumped to his feet but Patrick forced him to sit back down. "The game's not over till I say it is."

Sam turned puppy dog eyes on Harry, begging for help. Harry couldn't resist that look and nodded to the younger Winchester. Concentrating, Harry felt his way to Dean's worryingly feint signature. Silently, Harry transported himself to where he could feel Dean.

"Damn it!" Harry dropped to his knees next to Dean, who was on the floor struggling for breath. "Dean. Look at me." Dean's glazed eyes travelled around, trying to find the source of the noise. "It's ok Dean. I'm here and Sammy is undoing this right now. You will be ok."

Dean clenched his eyes, still struggling to breathe. He could hear Ezekiel's voice above him and thought that he must be dying if he could hear Angel's voices already. That thought almost made him laugh, because like those douche bags would ever let him into Heaven. Snapping his eyes open as pain continued to stream through his body, Dean focused on glistening green eyes above him.

Dean felt a hand on his check, softly running a thumb up and down his cheekbone. He found it strangely comforting and was lulled by the Angel's soft and reassuring words. Dean could feel everything fading and could hear the Angel's voice become urgent, when suddenly the pain stopped and he was harshly snapped back into consciousness.

Dean sat up quickly and checked himself over. Thank God for Sammy. Dean was absently rubbing his chest when he looked up and found the Angel a mere few inches away from his face. His breath caught in his throat when he realised how close they were and the fact that Ezekiel still had his face cupped in his hand.

As if sensing this, the Angel quickly moved his hand and sat back on his ankles. "We should tell Sam and Bobby that you are once again the correct age and that everything is well. They will be worried."

_

* * *

_

"Ezekiel."

It took everything Harry had to not jump at the sudden noise and to calmly turn around and face the youngest Winchester brother. "Sam. What is it you need?"

Sam came and stood next to Harry, who was outside their motel room watching the passersby in the parking lot. "I wanted to ask you something." Sam took a deep breath and saw his brother leaning in their motel doorway out of the corner of his eye. Ignoring his brother, Sam steeled himself. "After you left and I won the poker game, I asked Patrick about why he was doing what he did. He told me that his girlfriend needed the years to escape her deal. I asked about his deal, but he said he didn't need to worry about that. I was wondering if you knew what he means."

Harry took a breath. "Patrick's girlfriend made a deal with a Demon for her powers. But there are people out there that are born with magical gifts."

"You're saying that not all witches are evil and make deals?"

"Born witches are just like people – some good and some bad. Witches who get their powers from Demons are corrupted by that power and so will become evil and Demonic. I doubt you have ever met a born witch. They tend to hide themselves away from other, non-magical humans."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would they hide? They can do so much good in the world."

"That is exactly why they hide." Harry sighed. "There are limits to magic that non-magical humans would not understand. They would be asked to solve all of the world's problems, when in reality they would be able to do very little. And non-magical people tend to be afraid of those with more power than themselves. They started the last witch trials and I don't doubt some people would bring them back if they knew about witches."

"Yeah. You're right." Sam nodded. "Still, how great would it be to meet one. Imagine all the information about the supernatural we could gain!"

Harry gave a small smile at Sam's enthusiasm but inside he was relieved that Sam was so accepting of born witches. It would make it easier when he discovered Hermione was a born witch. And after seeing Hermione so down and sad, Harry was determined that he would get Sam and his sister together. Even if it was the last thing he did.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry stood leaning against the bar, arm slung back and a bottle of beer clutched loosely in his hand. He took a pull of his drink and went back to his observations. It was a quiet night in the bar and Harry was being highly entertained by what was happening in front of him.

It had been about two weeks since Harry had gone and picked Hermione up from the airport and they hadn't done any kind of hunting. Harry had insisted that they act like normal tourists and do 'tourist-y' things. Harry was only just satisfied that his sister was feeling better after her time in England and was ready to do some Hunting again. Harry had found an article in the newspaper about the murder of couples that seemed promising. They were going to leave for Chicago in the morning. It should only take a few hours because they weren't that far away (part of the reason that Harry chose the Hunt) and Harry could feel his excitement building. Hermione sometimes said it worried her how much he liked to Hunt and destroy evil.

The thought of his sister brought Harry out of his musings and once again looked up at the amusing sight in front of him. Hermione was sat at a table with a near-empty martini glass in front of her, talking avidly to a man who had wandered over. Harry had noticed him approaching them and made himself scarce by going to get them fresh drinks. As far as he could tell, the man appeared to be some kind of nerd. Giving the man the once over, Harry did admit that he was cute, in a geeky sort of way. He was probably an accountant or something along those lines.

There was a simple problem in that Hermione seemed to have no idea that the man was trying to flirt with her. Sure, he was doing it in an awkward, shy kind of way – but anyone could tell that he was trying hard. Hermione didn't even seem to notice that the man was acting like a schoolboy with his first crush. Harry knew that Hermione wasn't like the Gryffindor Bookworm that she once was. War changes people and they had both matured to the point where relationships and sex wasn't embarrassing for them anymore. But Harry had no idea why Hermione wasn't responding to the decent and endearing man virtually throwing himself at her.

Harry could only come up with one explanation. And that explanation was a ridiculously tall Hunter with shaggy hair and big girly eyes. Sighing, Harry finished his drink with another pull and indicated to the barman that he wanted another. The Winchesters – the current ultimate bane of Harry's life. They sure as hell came with a damn lot of baggage. But none of that mattered. What mattered was his sister's happiness and if the youngest Winchester was the key to that happiness, then he would willingly accept that. A sudden idea sparked to life in his head and a smirk graced his elegant features. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Getting the drinks he had promised Hermione, Harry made his way back to their table, his mind still half focused on his plan. Gently placing the drink in front of her, Harry slipped into his seat and looked over at the man across from him. He had nothing against him, but he was really funny to watch and Harry was going to enjoy winding him up.

Placing his arm around Hermione so that his hand rested casually in the small of her back, Harry gave the man a seductive smile. "Hello, my name is Harry. I see that you have already had time to get acquainted with Hermione. You two looked very…..cosy."

Harry watched in silent amusement as the man looked flustered. "Erm, yeah – I mean, I was just – err….."

Hermione gave Harry a small frown. "We were talking about Taylor's job – he is an accountant." Harry gave the man a blatant once over, all the while thinking about how right he was. Accountant, Harry thought amused.

"Well, Taylor." Harry made sure he purred the man name sensually. He could see the man swallow nervously and Harry had to clamp down hard on the laugh that threatened to escape from him. "Seeing as we all know each other now, why don't you join us? We were just about to head back to our hotel."

Taylor's eyes widened a ridiculous amount and he was gaping so much that Harry was afraid he was about faint. "With you both?" Harry winced slightly as Taylor's voice rose by quite a few octaves. "Erm…..well, look at the time! I have work tomorrow, so I better get going! Thanks for the…..interesting conversation."

Harry watched the man literally run away from their table and took a swig of his drink. Turning, he saw that Hermione was glaring at him. "What?" Harry asked defensively. "I was only joking! He can't be much fun if he can't understand the concept of a joke."

"He was nice Harry. We had a very stimulating conversation."

Harry shook his head in amusement. God, Hermione must have it bad for Sam if she was that blind. "I don't think it was conversation that he wanted to be stimulating Hermione." Harry stared at his sister when she looked confused. "My God, he was flirting with you! I swear he was literally about to throw himself at your feet and begin worshipping you." Harry couldn't help himself as laughter just poured out of him. "You really didn't notice?"

"No…I mean, he was fairly good looking but I guess…I just wasn't interested in him." Hermione was beginning to look defensive, so Harry just held up his hands in surrender.

"Ok. I'll leave it alone." Harry finished his drink in one final swig. "So, are you ready to go? We are going on that Hunt tomorrow. It's gonna be great!"

* * *

"Dude, seriously. Turn it down."

Dean fiddled with the radio and turned the music up instead of down. Chucking to himself, he glanced at his brother who was giving him his patented 'bitch face'. Shaking his head, he put his foot down on the accelerator and urged his baby to go faster. As the next song blared out of the radio, Dean couldn't help but sing noisily as loud as possible, partly to just piss Sammy off.

Sam smiled at his brother's antics, although he would never let Dean see the grin that graced his features. Dean could be so annoying when it came to playing music in his car. Sam didn't like the type of music, how loud it was or the fact that Dean sang along very much off-key. He could swear his brother was tone-deaf. Sam was pulled out of his thoughts by his phone ringing and he quickly managed to turn the radio off before Dean could intercept his hand. Ignoring Dean's protests, he checked the caller display on his phone.

"Dude, would you shut up? I couldn't hear myself think, let alone someone on the other end of a phone." Sam returned his brother's glare. "Besides, it is Ezekiel. It could be important."

Dean felt himself go stiff at the mention of the angel's name and kept his eyes firmly on the road. His subtly listened as Sam answered his phone. "Hey. Yeah. No, of course not. Sure, a couple of hours. Ok. Give me the address."

The call was short and sweet and Sam hung up within less than a minute. Glancing at his brother, he saw juts how tense he had become. He really needed to do something about this or at least talk to his older brother. "So, he wanted some help on a hunt. I told he would do it and we are only an hour or two away."

"Sure. Fine. We can help out." Dean forced himself to relax. He was being ridiculous. "Where are we heading?"

"East, to Chicago. He gave me the room number and which hotel he was staying at." Sam watched as his brother forced himself to relax and decided that he was definitely going to talk to him. "Next diner you see, we should stop and grab something to eat. It's been hours since breakfast."

Half an hour later, they were pulling into a generic diner and slipping into a booth. Sam watched as his brother thanked the waitress without even acknowledging that she was young and pretty. Deciding that being forward was best, Sam steeled himself for this conversation.

"Dean, I really want to talk to you." Dean looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. "It is about Ezekiel, or Harry – or whatever we are supposed to call him." Sam watched as his brother clenched his fist subconsciously.

"We are not having this conversation Sammy."

"To hell we aren't." Sam slammed his fist down on the table, causing his brother to look at him in surprise. "I want to know why you don't deserve happiness."

Dean glared at his brother, but he could see the resolve in Sammy's eyes and knew there was no escaping this conversation. He might as well get it over with as fast as possible. "Sam, what do you think is going to happen? He is an angel, for God's sake. A high ranking one! Why would he even consider me?"

"Dean, you know as well as I do that he isn't like the other angels. Maybe it is like he said – he has been on Earth longer than them, so he knows more about humans. And it isn't like he follows the rules. You know how he acts."

"Yeah, he is acting all angelic recently. I guess he got a dressing down for being 'too human' or some crap like that." Dean muttered.

"Dean, it is hurting you. I hate seeing you like this. I mean, I have never seen you like this with anyone, ever!"

Dean rubbed his hands together nervously. "I have never felt this way about anyone before. I mean, I know that I really liked Cassie, but this is just so much more intense." Dean looked up, and Sam could see the confusion in gaze. "I have _never _thought of another guy like this before. I have always liked women."

"Dean. It doesn't matter if he is male or female. It is about what you feel about the _person. _Gender shouldn't matter."

"I know. But that is the problem." Dean could see Sammy's confused expression. "I've gotten over my shock of the whole male thing. But Ezekiel isn't a person – he is an angel. And I can't help but look at him and think about his vessel."

"What about it?" Sam was really confused. "We know that angels need permission, and Ezekiel doesn't seem like the kind of person to trick someone into it."

"I know that. But how could I do anything, knowing that there is a person inside – trapped and unable to do anything or protest? I mean he could be married and have kids!"

Sam shifted in his seat. He had never thought about it before, but he could see Dean's point. There was a person inside an angel's vessel who got no say in what the angel did or said. He knew Dean would never do anything whilst there was still a person inside. And it wasn't like the angel could go and find someone who was brain dead and essentially an empty body. Angels needed permission to enter a body, and you can't get that from a body with no one inside.

Sam looked down at his half finished meal. He actually regretted this conversation now. He felt sadness that his brother had finally found someone who he really liked, but couldn't do anything because they were essentially bodysnatching.

* * *

"Harry, why are we waiting here? We should just get on with the Hunt."

Harry stopped pacing his room and looked at Hermione, who was perched on the edge of the sofa. He had called the Winchesters a few hours ago and the sun was just setting outside. Harry hadn't told Hermione that the Winchesters were about to arrive any minute now. Biting the bullet, he decided to tell her now before they did turn up.

"Hermione." Harry took a breath. "I called the Winchesters and asked them if they could help us out on this Hunt."

"Why?" Hermione was eying her brother in confusion. "We know that it is vampires, we know where their little club is and we know how to kill them."

Harry rubbed his hand over his chin. "I know. But there is no 'we' in this Hunt Hermione. You aren't coming." Harry looked away from his sister, who had stilled. "I know that you seem to be ok after your time in England, but this Hunt could get bloody fast."

"You think I can't handle it?" Hermione virtually hissed.

Harry shook his head and let his hands rest on her shoulders. "I know you can handle it. I'm worried about myself." Harry sat next to Hermione and put his arm around her shoulder. "This Hunt could turn deadly at the drop of a hat. Seeing you in England so upset – I just need time to squash the overprotective streak that appears."

Hermione relaxed into Harry's embrace. "I get it Harry – honestly I do. I feel the same when I think about you. I understand that you feel that you need to protect me. But," Hermione's expression turned stern, "you aren't keeping me away. I'll humour you for this Hunt, but as soon as it is done we are going back to normal."

"Deal." Harry gave her a quick embrace, but pulled away when a knock at the door interrupted them. Standing up, Harry stalked towards the door. He made sure that his 'angelic' face was on and he took a deep breath to calm his emotions. He pulled open the door and saw the Winchester brothers stood outside the door. "Come in."

Harry backed away from the door and stepped aside, allowing the brothers to enter the hotel room. Sam and Dean looked around the room and couldn't help but be impressed. When they had arrived at the hotel, Dean swore they had got the wrong one by mistake. This place was expensive looking and definitely not the normal kind of place that they stayed in. Sam, however, was adamant that they were at the right place. He had turned out to be right when Ezekiel had opened the door to the suite that he was staying in.

"So." Sam cleared his throat. "What do you need help Hunting?"

Ezekiel returned to his seat next to Hermione and reclined back. "I have tracked a small group of vampires here and have found that they have a club where they lure their next meal. I plan to go to the club and discover how many there are and kill them."

"Ok. So why do you need our help?"

"It would be best to have another Hunter with me. It is logical to have backup."

Dean was confused. "Erm, there are already two of you."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione will not be coming." Seeing that they brothers were about to ask why his sister wasn't going with him, he quickly answered their unasked question. "It is Hermione's turn to take a holiday from Hunting and this is my case."

"Ok." Dean shrugged, seeming to accept that and Harry was glad. He didn't want to get into an emotional conversation with the brothers. He had promised his Uncle that he would act like a real angel around them and Harry was sure that having a heart to heart with the other Hunters wasn't exactly how angels acted.

"Hermione has been wanting to see some kind of new film that has just come out. I have managed to purchase some tickets for the film. It was surprisingly popular and they were difficult to get." Harry pulled the tickets out of his pocket and watched as Hermione gave his a bright smile. She had been trying to see the film for the last few days but it was a popular film. Harry was glad he had made the right choice. "And of course, there is a ticket for Sam as well."

"What?" Sam chocked out.

"Hermione, why don't you go and get the concierge to call you a taxi?" Harry watched as Hermione exited the room and turned to the brothers. "I know that you would want to help on this Hunt, but I need you to go and protect Hermione. You, better than anyone else, both know what is lurking in the dark."

Sam hesitated for a second, before nodding and taking the tickets from Harry. Once he had left the room, Harry turned to Dean and nodded. "Looks like it is just you and me Dean."

Dean fought the blush that threatened to cover his face. He had to get over this stupid reaction around the angel. Damn it, he wasn't some kind of teenage virgin that was just being noticed by his first crush! He was a womaniser – the one that chased and always got who he set his mind on into his bed. Steeling himself mentally, he nodded to the angel. "So, when are we leaving for this club?"

Harry hid the small smile that graced his features. Dean just seemed to accept the fact that he was forcing Hermione and Sam to spend time together. Although Harry had no idea if that was because Dean knew what he was doing and approved of his ingenious plan, or if it was because Dean had no idea what Harry was trying to do and accepted his excuse that Hermione was on 'holiday' from Hunting. Either way, it didn't matter. His plan was coming together nicely. Shaking himself from his thoughts, Harry answered Dean's question. "As soon as we get changed."

"Changed?" Dean frowned as he caught the bag that Ezekiel threw to him. "Why do we have to get changed?"

"The club has a certain kind of clientele. We have to fit in or they will notice us straight away. You may get changed in the bedroom," Harry pointed out the door on the left, "and I will get changed here. Please don't take too long. We need to leave soon."

Harry watched as Dean rolled his eyes and wandered into the room Harry had pointed out and slammed the door. Harry walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out the clothing that he had purchased for himself. Whilst he knew that he had to get some clothing to wear to the club, Harry had never expected it to be such an….experience. He had gone to a gothic shop that he found and looked around helplessly for a few minutes before deciding that the shop assistant was there for a reason. She had been nice and seemed to have fun dressing Harry up in lots of different gothic clothing. Two hours later, Harry had finally managed to get a word in edgeways and had told her he would just take the latest outfit she had forced him into. He thought for a moment and randomly chose an outfit for Dean, deciding to use some of the subtle resizing charms that Molly had insisting on teaching him. Dean wouldn't even notice that the clothing was resizing itself to fit him.

* * *

Harry had finished putting his clothing on over ten minutes ago and Dean had yet to make an appearance out of the room. Harry stalked towards the door and banged on it. Sure, he could just appear inside the room, but he was trying to be polite. He was, after all, forcing Dean into gothic clothing that he would never wear.

Dean heard the banging on the door, but was reluctant to open it. He knew that he would hate the clothing that Ezekiel had gotten for him and if Sammy ever saw him in them, he wouldn't hear the end of it for months. Dean had to admit (very reluctantly) that they weren't as bad as he imagined them to be. He was wearing black skinny jeans (a first for Dean) that had chains hanging off them and a belt with a skull buckle hanging low on his hips. The t-shirt he was wearing was plain, blood-red in colour and clung to him, showing his Hunting-honed muscles. Over the top was a black leather jacket with military style fastenings down the front. It was the one item that Dean liked and would keep.

All of the clothing fit Dean perfectly and he wondered how the angel had managed to get all the items of clothing in the right size. He must have really looked at Dean the last time they met and memorised all the details of what he looked like. Dean felt a shudder of pleasure go through him at the thought of Ezekiel looking him over. He quickly squashed that thought before it could gain momentum and pulled open the door in hope of crushing the desire he felt by laughing at how the angel looked in his own gothic getup. But he was sadly disappointed in his hope.

Ezekiel had gotten bored of banging on the bedroom door and being ignored by Dean and had seated himself back onto the sofa and was draped over the entire seat. Dean had to swallow hard to help gain control of his emotions. The angel was wearing a pair of skin-tight leather trousers and a plain green t-shirt. He had on a pair of worn combat boots that were left half open to give a relaxed air to his outfit and to tone down the trousers. It was a simple outfit, but it showcased the angel's toned body.

"So, finally ready to go?" Dean had to tear his eyes away from the patch of skin that showed just about the trousers where Ezekiel's t-shirt had ridden up as he was reclined. He looked up and found the angel sweeping his eyes up and down his form, taking in all the details. "Not bad. We should leave."

Dean nodded and forced his mind into 'Hunter' mode. Now was not the time to go all chick-flick with his emotions. They had some supernatural fugly to gank. "How are we going to get there?"

"I am going to transport us there. I know Castiel mentioned that you didn't like our means of transport, but is the quickest way." Harry watched as Dean nodded and stepped closer to him. He reached out and grabbed his shoulder in a vice-like grip before transporting them into an alley next to the club. He made sure to hold on hard because it would not be good if he lost Dean mid-transport. He could just imagine what his Uncle would say.

Harry quickly checked that Dean was ok, and led him towards the entrance of the club. There was a burly bouncer outside and Harry could feel some kind of supernatural power coming off him. He wanted to investigate it closer, but knew he didn't have time. Harry allowed a tiny amount of magical energy to be pushed towards the bouncer, but he made sure that it felt wrong and forced all his bad emotions into it. If his magic felt too pure, then he would not be allowed into the club. The bouncer looked at Harry sharply, before allowing him to enter the club straight away. Harry ignored the complaints from the queue of people waiting to enter and pulled Dean inside with him.

Dean saw the large queue of people waiting to get into the club and thought that it would sometime in the next century that they may finally get into the club. But Ezekiel led him straight to the front and stopped in front of the hefty doorman. Dean thought they were about to be sent to the back of the queue with an insult about trying to push in, but the bouncer sharply looked at the angel and allowed them straight in. The question was on the tip of his tongue, but decided that now wasn't the time to ask.

As soon as they got through the doors, Dean was hit by the loud and blaring music. It was some kind of metal, screaming kind of music that Dean didn't even know what to it as. Turning, he suddenly realised how close Ezekiel was. He almost jumped back, but saw that the angel was trying to tell him something. Steeling himself, he edged closer to Ezekiel.

Harry frowned at how loud the music was, but, in truth, he had been expecting it. It was a club after all. But he still needed to get Dean's attention, so he stepped closer and watched, amused, as Dean edged closer. Shaking his head, Harry leaned forward so that his mouth was next to Dean's ear.

"Why don't you go and grab us some drinks from the bar? I need a minute to focus my powers and find the vampire." Dean gave a tiny quiver at the feel of Ezekiel's hot breath against his ear, but nodded all the same and moved away from the angel.

He glanced back and saw that Ezekiel was swaying in time to the music, but his gaze was flicking rapidly around the room and were slightly glazed. Dean guessed that he was looking around and trying to sense who was a vampire out of all the people in the club. Dean pulled his eyes away from the seraphim and ducked around the crowds of people to get to the bar.

Harry's gaze flicked from one goth to another, trying to find the vampires that he knew for a fact hunted in this club. He actually found it amusing that any vampire would give into stereotype and play at being gothic. He was pulled from his amusement when his senses tingled. Honing in on the location, he found that it was coming from a woman sat in corner on a worn leather couch. He debated about whether he should go to her on his own, or if he should get Dean and both of them go over. He knew that there were more vampires still in the club, but finding one meant that he could use her to lure the others out.

Looking over to the bar to see where his fellow Hunter had gone, his decision was made. Dean seemed to be in need of rescuing from an overeager male goth who had seemingly taken a liking to the older Hunter. Rolling his eyes at how uncomfortable Dean seemed to be, Harry gracefully slide through the crowd towards the bar.

Dean had been quietly getting two bottles of beer from the barman, when some goth (who was wearing too much guyliner in Dean's opinion) started trying to flirt with him. The more Dean acted dismissingly and disinterested, the more the guy seemed to take it to be a challenge. Dean was close to just shoving the guy away and using some kind of crude insult to get him to go away when he saw Ezekiel silently slide next to him.

Dean tried to not jump as the angel put an arm around his waist, allowing his hand to lightly rest on Dean's hip. "Meeting new friends, babe?" Ezekiel's voice was silky and he gave the guy the once over. "He seems nice. You always did have good taste. And tonight is your choice after all."

Dean watched in satisfaction as the guy took in the predator-like gleam in the angel's eyes and gulped hard. He turned and practically ran away without a word. Ezekiel gave a triumphant smirk and turned to face Dean. "You owe me, Winchester. I've found one of the vampires whilst you were being sexually harassed by the guyliner man."

Dean scowled at him, but allowed himself to be pulled away from the bar. Ezekiel didn't even seem to notice that he kept his arm around Dean's waist, his beer firmly clutched in his other hand. Wherever the angel touched, Dean felt as though fire ran through his skin. He had been hoping that exposure to the angel would make his crush go away. Kind of like gaining immunity, but it was having the opposite effect. The emotions just kept getting deeper and deeper and Dean was scared how far they would go. He had never been in love and he had never really believed in all that soul mate crap, but now he was finding himself re-evaluating his beliefs and ideals. And that scared him a hell of a lot.

Harry pulled Dean through the crowd, making sure that he kept a grip on him so that they weren't separated or poor Dean wasn't harassed again. He finally managed to fight his way through the dancing goths to the corner where the seating was situated and smiled at the vampire. She was good-looking, with light hair and dark eyes. She gave Harry a sultry smile and patted the seat next to her.

"So, what is a woman like you doing sat here all alone?" Harry reclined casually next to her and gave her his full attention after he made sure Dean was ok in the sofa opposite them.

"Well, I'm trying to find some fun for the night. I felt the energy that was directed at the bouncer and wondered who it was. Imagine my surprise when a little deal-witch comes to have a chat with me and brings his little toy with him?" Harry almost smirked in triumph. His plan to make anything supernatural that felt his little power display with the bouncer believe his power was tainted and came from a corrupt source had clearly worked.

"Well what can I say? I'm a sucker for a pretty face that goes with a sexy body."

The woman gave a small laugh. "You aren't bad yourself and you have a killer accent. And your little toy looks like he could be fun." Dean saw the woman give him a once over and normally he would be happy that a hot woman was checking him out, but this time he knew the woman was a vampire. It made his skin crawl in disgust. "You seem to have a talent for witchcraft. Most have no idea how to control the power they are given."

Harry did smirk this time. It was all going better than he had planned for. The vampire seemed to have taken a shine to him. Now all he had to do was convince her to lead him to the others. "So, why don't we go somewhere private?"

The woman ran a hand up and down Harry's arm seductively. "I have some friends that would love to meet you." Her eyes glinted darkly. "I'm sure that they will really enjoy that. So, little deal-witch, why don't you use some of your powers and make it so no one notices you zapping us out of here?"

Dean watched as Ezekiel smiled at the woman and concentrated, his eyes once again glazing over. Dean didn't like how the woman ignored him and called him Ezekiel's toy. It was normally him that was in control of a Hunt and he found it difficult letting go of control to the angel. That and seeing a vampire with her hands all over the seraphim didn't help. He was about to open his mouth with a comment that he just couldn't help, when he suddenly appeared in a different room.

Looking around sharply, he was in a darkened room and it was silent. Dean's eardrums were still throbbing slightly from the loud, screechy music from the club. He turned and saw that the woman had backed away from Ezekiel and was leaning against the wall, watching them both avidly. The angel was looking at her with a blank expression, but Dean saw his freeze when a dark voice sounded from across the room.

"My, my – how nice of you to join us Lord Potter." Dean watched as the angel stiffened at the mocking tone at the mention of the word 'Lord'. They both turned to the sound of the voice and Dean saw that Ezekiel had forced himself to relax.

"Lauton. How…nice….to see you after all this time." Dean was surprised to see Ezekiel's fists clench.

The vampire brushed back his brown hair and laughed. "Well, I saw you enter the club and couldn't resist the temptation after all this time. Consider it repaying the favour. You did after all kill my entire coven in France."

Ezekiel growled deep in his throat, an almost alien sound coming from the angel, in Dean's opinion. He never thought an angel of the Lord could make such a menacing and guttural sound. "I was doing my job – stopping you from killing anymore innocent people. The last scene I went to was a bloodbath. I guess your meal got a little messy."

The pale, cold eyes glinted. "I have a new family now – I see how well you were getting on with a member of my new family. I just couldn't resist making it complete and inviting some of your family as well."

Dean's heart seemed to stop when two people were shoved into the room, kicking and fighting all the way. He recognised his brother's tall frame and girly haircut and the woman next to him was clearly Hermione. The vampire tutted at them. "Now, now. You are my guests. Show some politeness to your host. I'm surprised at you Miss Granger. I thought you were raised better than this."

"Bite me." Hermione hissed, before letting out a sarcastic laugh. "Excuse the pun, of course. I know that you would actually bite me, so I retract that insult. Here's another one instead: go screw yourself, you murdering bastard."

The vampire waved a hand dismissingly. "Are you still mad that I killed your little boyfriend during the attack at the Ministry? You really should move on from that. Or," he leered at Sam, who had manoeuvred himself so he was stood slightly in front of Hermione. "I guess you already have. He looks tasty – like a piece of rare meat."

Dean made to move forward, only to be pushed back by Ezekiel. "Enough of this. Let them go and we can deal with this. Just between us two."

"Like I'm going to do that. I have a hungry coven to feed." The vampire scoffed and suddenly pounced forward, grabbing the angel from behind, with an arm around his neck and across his chest. "I think I'll keep you for myself. Although it is a tough choice between you and Miss Granger. I know she would taste good – all born-witches taste so good. Especially ones as powerful as she is."

Dean and Sam's eyes went wide and they looked at Hermione, who blushed slightly and refused to meet their gaze. She took a deep breath before steeling herself. Dean pushed down his questions and saw his brother doing the same. There would be plenty of time to ask questions after they had killed these sons-of-bitches. He watched as Hermione met Ezekiel's gaze. To Dean, it looked as though they were having some kind of silent communication that was similar to how Sammy and himself sometimes had silent arguments.

They seemed to have come to an agreement that Hermione didn't like, if her expression was anything to go by. Dean saw her hand slowly reach into her sleeve and grip something. He was reminded of the gun he had stashed at the back of his trousers, under his jacket. He was going to reach for it, when luminous green eyes caught his own. Ezekiel saw him moving his hand and was minutely shaking his head. Dean was reluctant to do nothing, but he trusted the angel.

It took everything Dean had to not rush to the angel when the vampire bit down on his neck. Ezekiel stiffened but he showed no other indication of the pain he must be feeling, except for the slight scrunch at the corners of his eyes. In the meantime, Hermione had pulled out a wooden stick, which she waved and a pale blue light suddenly shone out of it. All the vampires fell to the floor clutching their ears and screaming in pain.

Dean ran forward as Ezekiel was released from the vampires iron grip and helped him stand, an arm firmly around the seraphim's waist. He received a small smile, which made his heart flutter (he would never admit that. Ever. He wasn't some kind of girl, for God's sake). The angel closed his eyes and waved a hand at the vampires, causing them all to go lifeless and still. All of them except the one who had just been chewing his neck.

"What did you do to them?" Sam looked around at the bodies on the floor, a look of confusion on his face.

"I took their souls, like I did with that necromancer." Ezekiel swayed slightly on his feet, so Dean pulled him closer and held him tighter. All for the good of the angel's health, of course.

"And what are you gonna do with him?" Dean asked, nodding his head in the direction of the only vampire remaining alive.

"I'm going to leave him die – slowly and painfully." The angel had a carefully blank expression back in place. "My blood is like crack for vampires, but it is also toxic. Once he has come down from the intense high in an hour or so, he will start to suffer the toxic effects. There is no cure and it will be excruciating."

"That is still better than he deserves." Hermione looked at the vampire stiffly, before turning away. "Are you well enough to transport us back to the hotel? We need to clean your wound so that it can start to heal right away."

"I've got enough energy to get us back. But I will need to sleep to recover my energy from this. Don't worry if I pass out as soon as we are back at the hotel." Ezekiel closed his eyes and Dean watched as they all suddenly appeared in one of the suite's bedrooms. He caught the seraphim as he pitched forward, unconscious, and gently laid him on the bed. It had been a long day.

* * *

Hermione watched from a window in the hotel suite as the Winchesters collected their car from the valet and drove away into the distance. It had been a long day so far and she couldn't wait to get to bed and sleep for days. She knew it would be a while before the image of Harry becoming a human happy meal for a vampire would leave her mind. She knew that it was part of Harry's insane plan to help cause a distraction so she could get her wand (once vampire got a taste, or even sniff, of blood, they couldn't concentrate on anything else), but she still hated Harry putting himself in danger. But Hermione knew Harry would never change, damn his saving-people-thing.

It hadn't been all bad though. Hermione allowed herself a small smile as she thought about her trip to the cinema with the youngest Winchester. Sam had been the perfect gentleman – holding open doors, insisting on paying for her drink and popcorn, offering her his arm. It had all been perfect. Well, until they were grabbed by vampires on the way back to the car after the film had ended. She didn't even have time to cast any defensive spells before they were shoved into a car.

Another upside of the night was the Winchester's being fine with her magic. It seemed Harry had already explained the difference between those born as witches and those that sold their souls for a similar, but corrupt power. Hermione and Sam had left Dean to clean the bite on Harry's neck and Hermione had answered all the eager questions Sam had about her magic and the secret community hidden among them.

Whilst it had been good, it confused Hermione. She knew she was attracted to the youngest Winchester brother, but she had refused to consider the possibility of starting something with him so far. But Sam's acceptance of her magic and his eagerness to learn all about it only increased her attraction. Now she had no idea what she should do. And it was all Harry's fault.

Hermione had been confused at first as to why Harry wanted her to go to the cinema with Sam. She had no illusions that his ridiculous story of her having time off hunting was a load of crap. But now she knew that Harry was being thoughtful and was setting her and Sam up. Harry was too observant sometimes. She had never been able to hide much from him.

Hermione almost gave a snort at the thought of Harry being observant. It seemed he was missing something that was right in front of his face. Hermione could see the way Dean Winchester looked at Harry. She could tell how deep the Winchester's feelings seemed to go, yet Harry was unaware that the Hunter felt anything for him. She also saw the signs that Harry liked him back, but had yet to realise that. Harry was always blind when it came to love and happiness for himself. She could only hope that he would realise his feelings and act on them before the goddamn Apocalypse finished them all off.


	8. Chapter 8

Heart beating fast and furious, Harry suddenly sat up in bed. He looked around frantically, trying to find the source of his anticipation. All he saw was his bedroom, empty except for himself. Harry rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and took deeps breaths to try and steady his erratic heartbeat. Harry sighed and shoved the covers off and winced as beads of sweat rolled down his chest. The Angelic Wizard swung his legs over the side of the bed and stalked over to his ensuite bathroom.

Harry stripped down and got in once the shower was at a pleasantly scolding hot temperature. As a child, the Dursleys had shoved Harry into a shower that was lukewarm at best and gave him a maximum of five or so minutes. It may seem like a trivial and small pleasure in life, but Harry enjoyed long showers that were as hot as possible. Harry took his time and once he had calmed his heartbeat and felt the tension leave his muscles, shut off the shower.

"Did you feel it?"

Harry pulled the curtain back and wildly looked around. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but he could swear that he had just heard his Uncle's voice. Whilst he was in the shower. Harry saw that his Uncle was in fact in the bathroom and was stood next to the sink, blinking owlishly at his nephew. Harry pulled the shower curtain over so that he was covered and glared at his Uncle.

"Uncle Cas." Harry stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. "Is whatever you are here for so important that you have to turn up in the middle of the night whilst I'm in the shower?"

"Yes." Castiel tilted his head. "I do not understand what it is that I have done to annoy you."

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. "I'm not annoyed. I just sometimes forget that you aren't used to human mannerisms. You're just lucky that it was me in the shower and not Hermione. I would be putting you back together right now if it were Mione that you saw naked in the shower."

"Oh. It is another one of the things that humans are sensitive about. I see." Castiel nodded, before turning his intense sky coloured gaze on his nephew. "I am here to ask if you felt it. The ripple."

"Yeah. It woke me up. What was it?"

"It was a Brother of mine using his Grace. They must have been powerful and they must have used a substantial amount of Grace for us to be able to feel it. They are manipulating the Human environment directly."

"Can you tell who it is? And where they are?" Harry watched his Uncle closely as he frowned.

"No." Castiel shook his head. "It feels familiar somehow, but I can not tell which of my brothers or sisters it is. And I do not know where it is coming from. That is why I am here."

"What?" Harry stood up straighter. "How can I help? You have lived with your Grace for centuries. I've only known mine to be there for a few years. You have the upper-hand here, Cas."

"I am disconnected from Heaven. It is increasingly difficult for me to connect to the Grace of other Angels. I can normally force that connection, but I have found it impossible to locate this time." Castiel explained patiently to his nephew.

"I still don't know what I can do." Harry was still confused.

"You are a Seraphim and have all the power and authority that the position gives you. I am confident that you could locate the source if you search for it."

Harry nodded and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. He searched his memory of waking up drenched in sweat and heart beating furiously. The memory of the feeling burning in his mind, Harry allowed himself to tap into his Grace. It surrounded him and bathed his soul with a warm and comforting light. Harry's magic felt similar to his Grace, but the Grace that enveloped his body felt almost….ethereal. It gave him comfort to know that this was the same Grace that his Mother had. Allowing the Grace to seep out of himself, Harry cast it out and felt for the same feeling that had woken him up.

Harry felt two sources of the power and frowned. He told Castiel what he had found, but neither of them could explain it. An Angel's Grace couldn't be in two places at once. The Grace also felt…..strange. Like it had been changed. It wasn't corrupt or dangerous, but it had definitely been manipulated. It almost had a mischievous edge to it that had Harry confused.

"There is no way that the source of the Grace can be in two places at once." Harry gazed off into the distance, deep in contemplation. A thought suddenly struck him. "Unless one is a trick. Like a distraction. The Angel could have left a tiny piece of his Grace locked into an object and put it somewhere safe so that anyone searching for them would be led astray."

"Then we must investigate both of these places. Where are they?" Castiel considered the locations that Harry told him and came to a decision. "You should go to the one that is closest to here. That is where the most powerful source of the Grace is?" Receiving a nod from his nephew, Castiel continued. "I will go to the one where there is little feeling of Grace. I need to tell you though – there is a chance that where you are going could be dangerous."

"I know. I've never been much of one to back down from danger. And I won't have to worry about Hermione; she is currently at the central library in the Wizard Quarter in DC. She said she would meet me in a few days, wherever I happen to find myself in the country. That should be enough time to sort this out."

Another surge of power suddenly hit the two Angels and they looked at each other. Castiel grabbed his nephew by the shoulders in a firm grip. "Hide your Grace. Don't use it – keep it complete hidden beneath your magic. Lucifer could be behind this. I don't want him to get to you."

"I won't use my Grace. I'll only use my magic for now. I'll be ok – I lived through a War as the primary target remember?" Giving his Uncle a quick look, Harry silently dressed and apparated out of the room with a loud crack.

* * *

A hospital. A goddamn hospital. It was just Harry's luck that he ended up in his least favourite place in the entire human world. Harry looked around, confused. He may not know much about muggle hospitals, but his magic was screaming to him that this place felt wrong. And not juts because he always had rubbish experiences in any kind of hospitals. This place felt unreal and Harry was suddenly reminded of the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. It felt the same as that place.

Harry heard raised voices and hurried around the corner. He suddenly found himself next to the Winchester brothers.

"-your wife doesn't need jacksquat. Okay?" Dean's voice was raised and had an annoyed edge to it. Neither brother had noticed Harry yet and kept walking down the corridor.

"Hey Doctor." Harry saw the gun before either of the Winchester brothers did and he shoved Dean out of the way as the bullet whizzed towards him. Harry wasn't fast enough to move himself out of the way and his magic wouldn't be fast enough to stop a speeding muggle bullet. Harry twisted enough so that the bullet missed anything important, but it slammed into his shoulder.

Harry bit back the cry of pain that threatened to escape him and clutched his injured shoulder. Damn, he really wished he could use his Grace right now. But he had no idea what was going on and he didn't want to miss it. This could be a trick from Lucifer to trap other Angels and either force them to join him or kill them.

"Shit!" Harry took deep breaths and looked up. His gaze met the puppy-dog brown eyes of the youngest Winchester brother. "Dean, it's real! This must be what the Trickster meant when he said we had to survive."

"Right." Dean looked around quickly. "Let's get him into the operating room. We have to get the bullet out and get him stitched up."

Harry was gently pulled through a set of door and forced to lie down on an operating table. There were pretend-nurses and pretend-doctors all around him, randomly spitting out lines about his heart rate and blood pressure and all other kinds of crap. Sam and Dean were arguing about what they should do.

"Dean! I have no idea how to use any of this crap. What am I supposed to do?"

Harry sat up suddenly. There was no way he was going to let the Winchesters maul him in a misguided attempt to save him. He trusted them to patch themselves up, but using medical equipment? Not a chance.

"Hell no." The brothers looked at Harry in surprise. "There is no way either of you is going to practice being doctors on me. You may have the white jackets, but I'm not letting you near me."

Ignoring the protests he was receiving, Harry placed his hand over the bullet hole. Wincing slightly at the pain, Harry concentrated hard and began to carefully use a silent summoning charm. He felt the bullet being dragged backwards and out of the hole. It hurt like hell and Harry bit his lip to stop the grunts of pain that were threatening to leave him. The bullet finally came all the way out and Harry dropped it into a metal pan next to the operating table he was sat on. He took deep breaths to steady himself and felt gentle hands on his arms.

Dean watched as the Angel managed to get the bullet out and took deep, calming breaths. As the Seraphim closed his eyes, Dean took a hesitant step forward and grabbed the swaying Angel's arms. He glanced over at his brother and saw him threading a needle with some kind of surgical thread. Nodding to his younger sibling, Dean accepted the threaded needle. The Angel was looking at him with wide emerald eyes and Dean received a nod. He began to quickly but carefully stitch the bullet hole up.

The hole wasn't that large, so Dean managed to use only a few stitches to close it up. He tied off the thread and cut the end. He was about to turn away, when he suddenly found Ezekiel close to him. Very close. The Angel had stood up and had grabbed Dean's wrist. He manoeuvred closer to the Hunter, so that his lips were right next to Dean's ear.

"What are you doing Eze – " Dean was suddenly cut of by the Angel.

"Don't use that name here." Dean shivered as the Angel's breath tickled his ear. He tried to ignore it and focus. "I don't want anyone to know what I am. Keep it to yourself – this could be a trap."

Dean swallowed and nodded. He felt a sting of regret as the Angel moved away from him. However, this regret was soon replaced by shear annoyance and the urge to kill some Supernatural monsters when he heard his current least favourite person. He turned and saw that the Trickster had appeared and was looking the Angel over.

"Well, I'm surprised."

"Yeah? And why would that be?" Dean growled.

"Well, I never thought that a wizard of all things would help you two. They normally keep to themselves and have refused to help with the coming Apocalypse. Yet you two have somehow managed to snare yourselves a powerful one."

"Why are you keeping them here? What do you aim to achieve?" Harry looked at the man before him carefully. This was definitely the source of the strange Grace. Harry might not be able to confirm it because his own Grace was currently buried deep down in his soul, beneath his magic, but he would bet anything that this was the source.

"I'm a Trickster. That is what I do." Harry narrowed his eyes at the man before him. He was starting to get annoying now.

"Okay, Loki, how about you let me out then?"

The Trickster grinned at the Angel Wizard before him. Harry could tell that he had amused him. "Oh, you know my name. Well, one of my names. But that has got to be my favourite. Tell you what – we'll make the same deal that I have with those two chuckleheads. You survive, you can leave. Nice and simple. You're a powerful wizard, you will be ok." With one last wave, the Trickster suddenly vanished.

"Son of a bitch." The Angel muttered, causing Dean to stare at him in surprise. The Seraphim had been acting all proper and Angelic around the Winchester Hunters recently, but now he was acting very human. Like when they had first met him. But Dean supposed that he didn't want the Trickster knowing he was an Angel, which was something he could understand. So it seemed that the Angel was putting on his Human act again. Dean knew he shouldn't gain any kind of…..hope from it, but he couldn't help it. Dean opened his mouth to comment, when sudden clapping and chanting cut him off.

Sam and Dean found themselves on platforms with their feet strapped down. There were flashing lights everywhere and a Japanese man is stood next to them, chanting along with the audience. Harry was stood to the side, next to the platform and he shook his head. This Angel had a strange sense of humour – what was he hoping to achieve from making the Winchesters go through these ridiculous situations?

Harry ignored the snatches of Japanese that he actually understood and closed his eyes. Although he couldn't use his Grace, Harry was determined to pinpoint exactly where Loki – or whatever the hell his real, Angelic name was – was hiding so that he could force his way through the fake environment and find him in the real, physical world. Harry's magic seeped out of him in his command, but his eyes snapped open when he felt his Uncle Castiel suddenly appear, as though from nowhere. He hurried forward, wincing in pain and gripping his shoulder, just as his Uncle disappeared.

"No, no, no." The Japanese host shook his head. "Mr Trickster doesn't like pretty boy angels."

Harry snarled in frustration and ignored the show, once again concentrating on his magic. He was sure that the Winchesters were fine. Sure, they didn't speak a word of Japanese, but they were Hunters for Christ's sake. They should be able to deal with a little fake game show. What Harry couldn't understand was why he himself wasn't being made part of the Trickster's personal little show. That made Harry think that it was about the Winchesters – Loki obviously wanted something from them. Harry could feel the Grace around him, manipulating the environment to suit whatever plan the Trickster had. Harry couldn't locate exactly where Loki was – he was hiding himself well, but close enough that he could enjoy his homemade entertainment. Whoever this Angel was, he was old enough to know how to use his Grace to its full extent in the human world.

When Harry opened his eyes again, not only was he frustrated that he couldn't locate the Angel or tell if he was working for Lucifer or just had some agenda of his own, but the scene had once again changed. This was beginning to annoy Harry. It may have been amusing for a moment back there when the Winchesters were struggling with the Japanese game show, but it was starting to get on Harry's already frayed nerves. And he had been shot, for God's sake!

Harry watched, half irritated and half amused, as Sam and Dean talked about having genital herpes. Harry couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when Dean began to list the possible side effects. He found it amusing that when the older Hunter mentioned erectile dysfunction, he winced slightly and slumped forward – almost as though he were trying to protect himself from the side effects.

Music suddenly began blaring and all three men looked around for the source. Sam and Dean were still on the basketball court, but all the other players had disappeared and all background noise had gone eerily silent. Harry looked at the other Hunters and shrugged his shoulders. Listening closer, Harry suddenly identified the song as The Bad Touch by Bloodhound Gang. It made Harry seriously confused. That was the song that he used on his phone for Hermione – she hated the song, which is why he used it. Harry pulled out his phone and answered it.

Hermione's voice came through the phone, sounding happy and chipper. Harry wasn't sure if it really was Hermione, or if it is was the Trickster messing with him. Harry put the phone on loudspeaker so that the Winchesters could hear the conversation as well. Harry indicated that they should stay silent.

"Hey Harry." Harry could hear shuffling in the background that sounded like books being riffled through, but he couldn't be sure. "I'm just ringing to make sure you are ok. I know what you're like – I leave you alone for five minutes and you get into some kind of trouble."

Harry snorted. Damn, if only his sister knew what he was doing right now. "Don't be stupid Mione. I'm just fine. It's been kind of boring with you gone."

"What are you up to? I bet that you are about to head out to some bar and get yourself some 'company'."

Harry gave a slight smile. It certainly sounded like Hermione, but Harry had to be sure. He reinforced his mental shields, so nothing would get in. "Hermione, I'm shocked that you think so little of me. I'm just watching some shows." That was technically true. Harry was watching shows, but they were live rather than on TV.

"You could be doing something useful like I am. How come I'm the one sat in a library researching the damn Apocalypse and you sit around on your arse all day, enjoying yourself?" Hermione's voice was joking and sarcastic.

"You know you love doing research. Besides, how would I send you the information I find? You can't use a computer in the Wizarding Central Library." Harry took a deep breath. It was time to test if this really was his sister. "It is times like these that I miss my gorgeous ebony owl, Hedwig."

"Are you ok Harry?" Hermione's voice was concerned. "Hedwig was snowy-white, not ebony. Is everything ok?"

Harry gave a sigh of relief and was quick to reassure his sibling. "Yeah. Sorry, I'm trying to watch this show and got distracted. Sorry. Look, I'll see you in a few days ok? I know that you've wanted to do this research for a while, so take as much time as you need."

"Ok Harry." Hermione still sounded hesitant, but Harry knew she wanted to get back to her research and wanted to immerse herself once again in the ancient tomes. "I'll see you in a few days. I should have all the important information that we have been searching for by then. Take care of yourself."

Harry disconnected the phone and absently rubbed his slightly throbbing shoulder. Shoving the phone back into his jean's pocket, Harry looked up and saw the Winchesters watching him.

"I had to make sure that it was Hermione. It could have been the Trickster, but I tested her and it was really Hermione."

Sam was stood still, a contemplating look on his face. He was looking at Harry and he suddenly walked up to him. "I wanted to ask you something. It is important."

"Sure." Harry was confused, but decided to humour the younger Winchester brother. He gave Sam his full attention, as did Dean.

Sam stared at the ground for a few long minutes. He took a deep breath and suddenly blurted out what he wanted to say. "I want to date Hermione."

Whatever Harry had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. He raised an eyebrow and looked the younger Winchester over. Sam was nervous – Harry could tell by the way he kept shifting from foot to foot. Harry chose his words carefully. "Why are you telling me this? Should you not be asking Hermione?"

"I thought it best to know if you agree with me asking your sister on date before I actually ask Hermione." Sam looked Harry dead in the eye and held his gaze. "I don't want to be the one that gets you angry – I've seen you go all avenging and smiting Angel."

"So you want me to give you my blessing? So that I don't kill you?" Harry was amused, but he could see how important this was to Sam so he kept his facial features straight. "I'm not going to stand in the way of my sister's happiness. And if you are that happiness, then so be it. But I should warn you – do anything, and I mean _anything_, to hurt her, I will hunt you down and skin you alive."

Sam swallowed nervously, but managed to smile at Harry. "Don't worry. I will do anything to make her happy."

"Good." Harry gave Sam a smile, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. "I should tell you though – you have no idea what you are getting into with Hermione. I wish you all the luck in the world. You will need it."

Dean was still staring at his brother. "Dude, you had to ask that _now? _Couldn't it have waited until we weren't being used as puppets in a douchebag's own personal TV show?"

Sam opened his mouth to retaliate, but the scene around them suddenly blurred and morphed into a motel. Harry looked around carefully and immediately noticed the bikini clad woman. Sam gave a frustrated sigh and stalked over to the woman. "I'm really, really very sorry, but we have got some work to do."

The attractive woman looked straight past Sam and Dean to Harry. She scooted around Sam and sashayed her way over to him. She ran a hand up his arm and fluttered her eyelashes at him. Harry looked her up and down and shook her hand off.

"We could do some work. Some in depth work." Her voice was sickly sweet and grated on Harry's nerves.

"Oh I'm sure we could. But I'm going to have to decline." Harry guessed that the Trickster had finally decided to involve him in his weird little fantasy TV world. Harry didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. The woman pouted but left the room silently.

"How long do we have to keep this up?" Dean gritted his teeth in his frustration. And maybe a little bit of jealousy and anger at the scantily clad woman virtually throwing herself at the Seraphim. Not that Dean would ever mention that to a soul.

"I don't know. Maybe forever." Laughter resounded all around them loudly. "We could die in here." More laughter boomed through the mock TV set.

"How is that funny?" Dean finally got annoyed enough to snap. "Vultures."

The door that the semi-naked woman had previously left through slammed open and Castiel stalked in. Cheers and cries of approval sounded through the room. But Harry heard none of this as he took in his Uncle's dishevelled appearance and the small cuts littering his face. Before the Angel could say a word, he was pushed against the wall and the Trickster jogged in, bowing as cheers echoed loudly. Castiel was furious, but he couldn't say anything because the Trickster gestured and duct tape was suddenly sealing Castiel's mouth shut.

"Hi Castiel." Loki gestured again and Castiel disappeared. Seeing the dangerous look that both the Winchesters and Harry were giving him, he sighed. "Relax. He'll live. Maybe."

Dean was clearly pissed off. "You know what? I'm done with the monkey dance." Dean strode over so that he was right in front of the Trickster. "We get it okay? Playing our roles – we get it!"

"Really? Well that is only half the game." The Trickster suddenly became serious. "Play your roles – Sam starring as Lucifer and Dean as Michael. The ultimate celebrity death match!"

Harry sucked in a deep breath at the revelation that he had just been told. He knew that Dean was the true vessel of Michael – he had heard it on 'angel radio' before all had gone silent between the angels as the Apocalypse started to heat up. He had no idea that Sam was destined to be Lucifer's true vessel. It wasn't that which pissed Harry off. It was the fact that the Winchester and his own Uncle had failed to tell him that vital fact.

The Trickster heard Harry's sharp intake of breath and turned towards him, ignoring Dean's dangerous presence in front of him. "What, you didn't know? Have your friends been keeping important information from you, little wizard?" He tutted. "I'm not quite sure what your role in all this will be, but I'm sure you will have a role. A wizard as powerful as you helping the Winchesters? This will make it interesting to watch."

"Watch?" Dean was incredulous and furious. "What side are you on? Heaven or hell? Not that it matters – both sides are bastards who don't give a damn about anyone here on Earth!"

"You listen to me, you arrogant dick!" Dean was slammed up against the wall. "I don't work for any of those S.! Believe me!"

"Yeah? Well you have to be someone's bitch!"

The Trickster snarled. "Don't you dare to presume to know anything about me!"

Harry stepped forward and let his magic reach out to the Trickster. It was reacting to the dangerous situation and would react automatically to protect Harry. He had to hold onto it tightly to stop it from lashing out. His voice was quiet, but had a massive impact. "They may not know anything about you, but I do."

The Trickster stared deeply into Harry's eyes and saw that he was telling the truth and was serious. "Okay. This is what is going to happen." He pointed at Sam. "You are going to say yes to Lucifer. And Deano here will become Michael's meat-suit. You are going to suck it up and accept your responsibilities. You are gonna play the role that destiny has set out for you. If you don't, then you're gonna stay here in TV land. Forever." The Trickster let go of Dean and looked around at the defiant looks being thrown his way. "Fine. Then I guess you aren't going anywhere. You" Harry suddenly had a finger pointed at him. "are coming with me. We are going to have a little chat once I'm done with these two chuckleheads."

* * *

Light surrounded Harry, forcing him to close his eyes tight against the blinding glow. Once the radiance had died down, he slowly opened his eyes and looked around. Not that there was much to see. He had been shoved into an empty room by the Trickster. And it wasn't just an empty room; it was a blinding white empty room. The walls were white and the carpet on the floor was white. There were no windows and doors anywhere in the room. Harry was basically in a giant white box.

Alone in a room that strongly reminded Harry of a mental asylum, he felt his frustration building. He couldn't believe that Samuel Winchester was destined to be the vessel of Lucifer. Harry didn't think that Sam would say yes to the Devil, but Harry had to reluctantly admit to himself that he couldn't say for certain what the youngest Winchester brother would do because he didn't know him well enough to make that kind of judgement.

Harry would do anything to protect his family, even if they weren't related to him by blood. Blood wasn't what made family in Harry's mind. He may be related to the Angels in one way or another (the angelic family tree was very complicated), but Harry would only consider them family if they acted like family. Castiel had been there for Harry from the moment that he had discovered his heritage and his Grace. He told him about his Mother when she was a Seraphim and taught him all the angelic ways that he had missed out on learning. Castiel may be his Uncle, but for Harry he had become more. He was like a father-figure for Harry.

Harry was hurt that Castiel had kept vital information about the Winchesters from Harry. Although he disliked being kept in the dark about important information, Harry understood to an extent why Cas had done it. But that didn't make him any less annoyed at his Uncle. They would be having a little chat about Castiel trying to keep information from him to protect him or save his feelings.

Then there was the actual fact that Harry had discovered. Sam as Satan. It caused Harry no end of distress as he imagined what the future would be like if the young Hunter were to be manipulated into saying yes. Angels were unscrupulous and would use anything to get what they wanted. That included the people that Sam loved. They couldn't do anything to Dean because Michael would be mightily pissed if his vessel were hurt beyond repair in any way. But that didn't mean the angels couldn't find other people. The bastards could be resourceful and creative when they wanted to be.

No, Harry's worry was now purely focussed on his sister. The angels might use Hermione to get to Sam and to get him to say yes to the Devil. Harry would rather die himself than let Hermione get hurt. If the Angels so much as touched his sister, Harry would make it his personal mission to hunt them all down like animals and kill them. Slowly and painfully. Screw his morals. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her or his Uncle.

Harry had agreed not even half an hour ago that he wouldn't stop Sam from dating Hermione. He knew that his sister really liked Sam. He had known Hermione long enough to be able to tell what she was feeling, even if she wouldn't tell him her feelings outright. He could never deny her anything that would give her even the smallest bit of happiness. Especially seeing as they were so close to the Apocalypse and the end of the world. Harry could only hope that Sam's feelings for Hermione would be strong enough that no matter what the Angels did, he would never say 'yes' to Lucifer.

Determined to not let this new information affect him, Harry looked around the room and contemplated what he should do next. Loki had promised to come and have a little chat with him when he was done with the Winchesters. If Harry knew his Uncle Cas, which Harry was proud to say that he did in fact know everything about him, then Castiel would already have a plan to trap the Angel. What Harry didn't know was how long it would take them to implement that plan and if they had enough time. This Angel was powerful and seemed very angry with his Angelic siblings.

Harry decided that he had had more than enough of the bright white loony container room. It had been a rubbish day. He had been stuck in ridiculous muggle TV shows, messed around by a runaway Angel/Trickster, his Uncle had been thrown around like a ragdoll, he had found out some difficult information that was kept from him and he had been damn well shot! Harry felt that it was definitely time to leave this room. He slowed his Grace to flow back into every part of his soul and felt a sense of joy and …..rightness as his magic connected to the Grace that was once again illuminating his soul and very essence.

Harry felt his Grace build up and forced it so that it exploded outwards. Harry felt the walls of his fake-room shatter and he could once again feel the real world around him and let his Angelic Grace and magic connect with nature. Harry gave himself a mental slap on the back in congratulations. Harry felt his way to where he could feel his Uncle's Grace and silently transported himself there.

* * *

Harry found himself in a warehouse, the Winchesters and Castiel watching as the Trickster was stood inside a ring of fire. Harry guessed that his Uncle had managed to acquire some Holy Oil and had tricked Loki into the circle. Harry knew that his Uncle could instantly tell when he had arrived and felt his Uncle's mind reaching for his own. Harry used some minor Legilimensy skills to get the name that Castiel was mental transmitting to him.

"Hello Gabriel."

Gabriel's gaze snapped from his brother to the black-haired man in front of him. "You're an Angel? But how can you have Wizarding magic? It is forbidden at the highest level for Angels to have magical vessels of any kind!"

Harry ignored Gabriel's question."You should recognise my Grace. You were close to my Mother. She was sad when you ran away. I know she missed her younger brother."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes and Harry could feel his Grace being probed by another. "Sofiel." Gabriel's voice was soft. "You are her son. And have inherited her Grace and rank as a Seraphim."

"Yes." Harry took a step closer to his wayward Uncle. "My name is Ezekiel. I am named after a brother of yours that was killed in the battle when Lucifer was cast into perdition."

"Where is your Mother now? Seraphim never leave Heaven."

Castiel stepped up behind his nephew and put a hand on his shoulder as a show of support. "Sofiel is dead. She has moved into the afterlife with her soul mate. And there are no Seraphim left in Heaven. They have left with our Father and are hiding away with him. Ezekiel is the only Seraphim around."

"I know why you left." Harry stood so he was just on the edge of the ring of flames. "The Angels are bastards – now that Daddy has gone, the children run wild. They hate humans because they believe they are better than them in everyway. But the truth is that humans have been doing just fine since the first day that God dumped them on Earth to prove their worth. God is gone for a short time, and the Angels are off trying to destroy Daddy's pet project."

Harry backed away from his Uncle, who was watching him with sharp and intelligent eyes. "There is more to you than anyone knows." Gabriel looked Harry up and down. "I know you aren't just a Seraphim. We'll just call you something else, shall we?"

"Do as you please. It seems like that is what you do anyway."

"Lets go Sammy." Dean stalked towards the doorway, closely followed by his brother, Castiel and Ezekiel. Today had been shitty and he wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

"What? You're just going to leave me here?"

"No. Because I don't screw with people like you do. And for the record? This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers. Or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you, being too afraid to stand up to your family!" Dean reached over to and pulled the fire next to the door. The sprinklers came on and the fire began to diminish. "Don't say I never did anything for you."


	9. Chapter 9

"'ello?"

The resulting squeal caused Harry to pull the phone away from his ear with a grimace. He had been woken up at six in the goddamn morning and whoever was calling him seemed very excited to be talking to him. It wasn't a number he recognised and he wondered who it was that decided to call so early.

"Oh my God! It is you! You really exist!" The voice was distinctly female and the words left Harry even more confused. He sat up in bed and frowned.

"Yeah, I'm real. Who is this? And how did you get my number?"

"Oh, I'm Becky. I'm a friend of Chuck's – you know the author of the Supernatural books. I was looking through his notes and found some on you and a number. So, of course, I just had to call! I'm talking to a Seraphim of God – the Great Ezekiel!" the woman – Becky – gushed incessantly down the phone.

Harry sighed. He knew who Chuck was – it amused him no end that a prophet of God had the name 'Chuck'. When he had begun to learn how to use his Grace with his Uncle, Castiel had thought him that certain knowledge and information was burnt into the very essence of an angel's Grace. Part of this knowledge was the name of every past, present and future prophet of God.

"Whilst it is nice talking to you Becky, I really wonder why you are calling me." Harry tried to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Chuck needs your help. Right now. It is a life or death situation."

Harry pulled himself out of his warm and comfortable bed and swiftly crossed to the other end of the hotel suite and banged on Hermione's bedroom door. "Fine. We are on our way. We'll be there in a few minutes."

Harry absently listened to the location and hung up as soon as he got it. He couldn't refuse to help a prophet of God. Imagine what his Uncle would say. Shaking his head, he found Hermione glaring at him. "We have to leave. Chuck – you know, the prophet guy – needs our help apparently. At least, that is according to his annoying friend. I'll meet you back here in ten minutes."

Harry stomped off to his room and began pulling clothes out of his bag. He really wasn't in the mood for this right now. Harry was stressed and caught up in the search for God with his Uncle. Castiel had found some information about another angel who might know where God was, or at least knew some information that could point them in the right direction. But it was going slowly and Harry was seeing new Apocalypse omens all over the world as the days went by.

Harry took a deep breath and put on his angelic persona. Now was not the time to allow his stress to rule him and occupy his thoughts. He had a prophet to help. Harry pulled on some simple jeans and a t-shirt and dug around until he found his green converse. Harry quickly pulled them all on and shoved his phone and wallet into his pocket. He stalked out of his room and saw that Hermione was already waiting for him, wearing simple clothing like himself. Smiling reassuringly at him, Hermione grabbed his arm and Harry zapped them to the location he was given.

* * *

There was a crowd of people in the building Harry had brought them to. He looked around cautiously and stiffened when he saw a man with black eyes handing out some kind of book. He relaxed, however, when his Grace reached out and confirmed the man was just a human. He must be wearing some kind of contact lens to make him look like a demon, although Harry could not imagine why. Glancing at an equally confused Hermione, Harry gracefully ducked around the crowds until he came to another room filled with even more people. The entered halfway through a talk, it seemed.

"-and at 4:30 there's the homoerotic subtext of Supernatural." Harry raised an eyebrow delicately and checked his watch. They had jumped across several time zones to get here and Harry saw it was much later than when they had left. His watch (a university graduation present from Hermione) was charmed to adjust to local time in any place that Harry travelled to. Harry looked back up as the talk continued. "Oh, and of course the big hunt starts at 7pm sharp!" Everyone cheered and clapped. "Okay guys – but right now, right now – I'd like to introduce the man himself. The creator and the writer of the Supernatural books, the one – the only – Carver Edlund!"

As the man walked on stage, realisation hit Harry like a red London bus. The man now on stage was the prophet himself. From what Cas had told Harry, the prophet wrote books about what he saw – the Winchesters and their fight in the Apocalypse. Harry had been lured to a goddamn Supernatural fan convention of some kind!

Harry zoned back into the talk when he hears mention of his own name. Well, his angelic name at least. "So, I wanted to ask you about the rumours going around the fansite about a new character – an angel called Ezekiel. The rumours that we have heard make him seem kick-ass!" Whilst Harry was stilled pissed at being tricked into coming here, the guy's nerdy comment made him amused. Slightly.

"Well, yeah. I made some notes on a new character that I was thinking about doing. He is an angel of God called Ezekiel and he has awesome powers." Chuck paused and took a deep breath. "There lies an announcement, actually. Um, you're all gonna find out. Um, thanks to a wealthy Scandinavian investor, we're gonna start publishing again."

Harry quickly followed the man as he left the stage and joined the crowd leaving the room. After briefly getting separated from Hermione and reaching back to pull her gently along, he finally found the prophet. And he wasn't alone. The Winchester brothers were stood with him, unhappy and annoyed expressions plastered across their features.

"Chuck Shurley. Prophet of God. Author of Supernatural as well, it would seem."

Harry watched with a small spurt of satisfaction as Chuck physically jumped and turned to face him with an almost scared look on his face. Harry looked over at the Winchesters and saw surprise had replaced the annoyance on their faces. Although, for Sam, this quickly turned into a faint blush as Hermione smiled at him. Harry would have shaken his head if he could, but he was supposed to be acting all angelic and keeping the promise he made to his uncle.

"Oh, erm hi."

"Am I correct in my information that there have been…..rumours about me on your fansite, Prophet Chuck?" Harry felt another stab of satisfaction as Chuck visibly swallowed. He knew that he shouldn't make the man feel so bad it, but Harry need something to cheer him up right now. Besides, it wasn't like he wasn't used to being the centre of attention and being worshipped. He had gotten used to it since he was first introduced to his parents' world.

"Look, I just saw the visions. They were really vague and there were just a few. I only see Sam and Dean normally, but these ones hit me out of nowhere – and not in the normal way. I just made some notes and Becky found them and posted them online….I didn't write down any of the big stuff that I saw. Only the trivial stuff, I swear!"

Dean watched as Ezekiel looked the man up and down. He was a little surprised, however, when the angel seemed to stiffen at the mention of 'big stuff' that Chuck could have seen. But the Seraphim relaxed his posture a second later and Dean was left wondering if he had really seen anything. It sparked something for Dean though, and he vowed to get Chuck on his own and question him about anything he might know about the angel. He didn't want to invade the angel's privacy – it wasn't like Ezekiel offered any personal information about himself – but he couldn't ignore the nagging instinct inside him that there was more to the dark haired Seraphim than anyone could imagine.

As the Seraphim opened his mouth, a determined gleam in his jade eyes, a scream ripped through the air. The Winchester brothers looked at one another and ran off. Harry also froze, but a quick glance at Chuck confirmed his thoughts. Harry had survived through a brutal war and it's after affects, so he was damn sure he knew all about screams. And that scream that he had just heard sounded fake – a very bad fake, if Harry was any kind of judge. Rolling his eyes, Harry turned back and found that the Prophet had escaped from him and had disappeared into the crowd of his fans.

"That damn bastard." Harry muttered and winced when Hermione smacked him in the arm. "That hurt!"

"It isn't his fault that he is a Prophet Harry." Hermione gave Harry a glare that had no real edge to it. "He just gets the visions. I know what you are thinking – but you can't put him in the same category as Trelawney. He isn't a fake that somehow managed to make a real prophecy."

"Yeah, you're right." Harry watched as the enthusiastic nerds questioned the cheesy convention host about the building being haunted. He really hated damn fans, but at least they were mobbing him like had happened in the past. He actually found the entire thing amusing. Sam and Dean, unsung heroes, had some of the nerdiest fans Harry had ever seen. And he should know – his fans worshipped the damn ground he walked on like he was some kind of demigod. Harry would have nerds over awe-filled worshippers any day.

Harry saw the Winchester brothers approaching from the corner of his eye, annoyed looks once again plastered across their features. He couldn't resist a minor bit of ribbing as they reached him. "Enjoying your fan convention?"

"This has got to be one of the worst days of my life." Sam looked around at the multiple people dressed as either himself or Dean, and shook his head. Pulling himself together, he looked at his companions. Hermione gave him a small, reassuring smile and he felt another blush rise in his cheeks. Before it could develop into a full-blown red face, he quickly glanced at their angelic companion. The Seraphim was watching him with a blank expression on his features, but his eyes were probing him. Sam met the gaze and was held by their intensity. He had not spoken to the angel since Ezekiel had found out he was Lucifer's vessel, and he was worried about what the angel made of the information.

His eyes must have held the unanswered question, because Ezekiel straightened himself and glanced at his sister. The intense emerald orbs once again returned to him and probed him one last time. Sam was slightly shocked when the angel gave a slight bow of his head, giving Sam unspoken approval. Sam was dazed for a minute, before he pulled himself together. It was now or never.

"Hermione." Sam swallowed when warm eyes turned to him. He blocked out both his brother and the Seraphim. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out some time. With me…you know….as erm….on a kind of…" Sam took a deep breath and forced the words out. "On a date. With me."

Hermione looked at the youngest Winchester brother and saw his hopeful, puppy-dog gaze watching her intensely. Smiling, Hermione nodded her head. "I would like that."

Sam let out a relieved breath and smiled back at the brunette before him. The moment was ruined, as always, but his older brother. "Well, now that the chick-click moment is over, I need a drink."

As Dean led the way to the bar, he allowed his well-hidden anxiety seep away. He knew his brother and could tell that he was steeling himself to ask Hermione out on a date. Dean could also tell that Sammy was nervous about what Ezekiel would do to him if he did ask her out. The Seraphim had given his approval to Sam, but had found out soon after that Sam was the vessel of Satan. Dean had no idea what the angel made of that, because they had not spoken since the Gabriel incident. Dean had watched, nervous as hell (not that he would ever admit to it) as the angel looked his brother up and down. Both Sam and Dean had been shocked when the angel gave a minute nod of his head.

Dean had dreaded to think what the Seraphim could do to him and his younger brother. He had seen the kind of power that the angel possessed and he knew that there was more to the angel than he could imagine. He had been wondering for a while, but he had never pursued any kind of information. He knew that the seraphim was in a wizard's body, even though Gabriel said that it was forbidden, and that the seraphim had been on Earth longer than Castiel had. Try as he might, Dean just couldn't piece any kind of information together – there were too many missing pieces.

And, of course, there was the fact that Ezekiel's presence sent shivers through Dean like no one else ever had. This was made all the worst by the fact that Dean couldn't act on any of his feelings. The angel was in someone else's body – a damn person was trapped inside and had no control over the actions of the Seraphim. And Dean knew that the angel didn't return any of his feelings. Dean wondered at times of the angel even felt emotions, but he had seen him with his sister and Castiel. It was ironic that Dean had finally admitted his feelings to himself and he couldn't do a damn thing about them or act on them. He had to keep them all wrapped up inside.

Dean took a sip of his drink and glanced over at the woman that was stood next to him – it was the actress who played Leticia Gore earlier. Dean was still wrapped up in his morbid thoughts about the Seraphim a short distance from him. He didn't know why, but he needed to get the thought of Ezekiel out of his head. He put on a charming smile. "How you doing?" he says.

The woman doesn't look up from her phone. "Busy."

"Well you sure look lovely tonight," Dean goes on, turning his body towards the woman. "Especially for a dead chick."

"Buddy, I have heard that line seventeen times tonight," she says, still not looking at him and tapping away rapidly on her phone. "Okay? And all from dudes wearing MacGyver jackets." She finally looks up from her phone and smiles as she quickly looks him up and down. "But you seem different."

"How so?" Dean asks, raising his eyebrows. He actually had no idea what she meant.

"Well you don't seem scared of women," she comments. Dean smirks and takes another sip of his drink. Sure, his fans may be huge nerds, but they were useful for something – entertainment value. He just wished that there were some cool ones among the mass of nerds. Dean glanced around and intense emerald eyes caught his. There was some kind of emotion floating in the green depths, but before Dean could look deeper and work out what emotion it was, the green eyes became emotionless. Ezekiel carefully turned his gaze to the barman and signalled for a drink. Dean was left to contemplate what he had seen, but a commotion behind him took his attention elsewhere.

Two guys who were dressed like the Winchester brothers were having a small argument. "For the last time, I'm not making this up, okay? She's upstairs – a real, live, dead ghost!" The man who was supposed to be Sam was stood a short distance away, talking to his friend, who is dressed as Dean.

Dean glanced Sammy and inclined his head towards the arguing doppelgangers. Sam nodded. "Excuse me," Dean says to the woman, as they get up.

"Look, I'm sure it was just one of the actors," the guy's friend is saying to him.

"Who beat the crap out of me and then vanished?" the Sam guy says disbelievingly.

"You saw something?" Sam asks, walking up with Dean close behind him.

"Look, this isn't part of the game, jerk," the man says. "Tim, I'm getting out of here, and you should do the same." He walks away rapidly.

"Alex, wait..." the friend follows. "Hey, come back!"

"What do you think?" Sam asks his older brother, eyebrows raised in question.

"I don't think that guy is a good enough actor to be acting," Dean replies. Dean nods as his brother indicates the front desk and starts to head in that direction, but something on the other side of the room catches his eye. Chuck had managed to escape a gaggle of his fans and had slipped into a side room. He was alone, and it was the perfect opportunity to get the information on the secretive Seraphim that he had been dying to find out. "Look," Dean said to his younger sibling, "you question the manager guy. I have to just quickly do something, ok? I'll meet you at the bar when we're done."

Dean didn't give Sammy a chance to reply and twisted his way through the crowd. He quietly slipped through the door Chuck had snuck through a few minutes before. He found the prophet sat in a chair, a hand draped over his eyes. Dean watched him for a moment and then loudly cleared his throat to make his presence known. Chuck pulled his hand away from his eyes and looked blearily at Dean for a minute.

"Thank god it's you. I don't know if I could handle anymore fans. They are driving me crazy."

Den gave Chuck a small smirk. "They are quite nerdy." Dean's expression turned serious. "I'm not here to discuss your fans or this stupid convention. I want to know what information you have on Ezekiel."

Chuck stood up and warily looked at Dean. "I'm not sure that I should share the information that I managed to get."

"Look, Chuck, I like you – I really do. But I need to know what information you have."

Chuck took a deep breath and seemed to contemplate Dean's words. Coming to a decision, he took a step forward. "I only managed to get a bit of information from a vision before all I saw was black. Ezekiel has a lot of protective spells weaved around him that stops both the angels and myself from seeing him."

Dean nodded. "Just tell me what you do know."

"Ezekiel is powerful – and I don't mean just slightly above the rest. He could wipe out an entire city in a matter of minutes and with very little effort. I didn't get much, but I got the name Harry James Potter and the fact that it is related to a wizard. I don't know what that vision meant, but I would guess it is something to do with his vessel."

"Yeah, we found out from Gabriel that his vessel is a born wizard, so I guess he has his vessel's magic that he can use, as well as his Grace." Dean said, almost to himself.

"You should look into the name Harry James Potter. It can't be unimportant, if I got it in a vision."

Dean nodded his head slowly, thinking intensely. He remembered a while ago, when Castiel had seemed annoyed that they knew the name 'Harry'. And shortly after that, Ezekiel had requested that they call him his angelic name because 'Harry' had little meaning. This was getting more complicated, but now Dean had a place to start looking for true answers. He turned to leave the room, still deep in thought, when Chuck's voice stopped him.

"That isn't all." Dean turned back to the prophet and saw he was tensely biting his lip and his eyes darted around nervously. "The last vision that I got, before I couldn't see him anymore, was of a specific symbol. It was like a circle and line, inside a triangle. I got that vision every night for a month before the knowledge of what it meant hit me like a goddamn sledgehammer." He stopped and looked at his feet.

"Well, want to share with the class?"

Chuck looked up and Dean could see the anxiety in his fretful gaze. "It is the symbol for the Master of Death."

"Master of Death?" Dean echoed. "As in one of the Horsemen?"

Chuck shook his head quickly. "No. The Horsemen are named after the task they are each given by Satan. The Master of Death is someone – or some being – that has been give power over life and death by Death himself. From what I found when I did some research, Death gave certain objects to three brothers, and when combined by one person, then that person will receive the power of Death."

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean demanded.

"I don't know. I've told you everything that I do know. Maybe it means that Ezekiel is the angel of death or whatever." Chuck picked at his sleeve nervously.

Dean turned from the nervous man before him and quietly left the room. He supposed that Ezekiel being the Angel of Death or something like that made complete sense. The more Dean thought about it, the more a spark of annoyance grew inside him. Ezekiel and Castiel had kept this information from Dean and Sammy, and it could have been useful for them to know. Didn't Ezekiel trust them with the information?

Dean was still really pissed off by the time he reached the bar, and seeing the Seraphim only served to fuel his already raging annoyance. Sam had obviously finished quizzing the hotel manager and was stood at the bar, having a drink with Hermione and was laughing and joking with her. Ezekiel was leaning back against the bar and his bright green eyes were seeping the room full of fans. They locked with Dean's as he stomped over.

"I want some damn answers from you, right now!" Dean demanded.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the irate Hunter before him. Harry had allowed Sam to go off and question the hotel manager with Hermione, deciding that he should give them some space to themselves. He had wandered around the room for a while, but had soon gotten bored of the fanatical LARPers spewing ridiculous lines from the Supernatural books. He slipped inside a room and found himself arriving mid-talk. Deciding that this couldn't be as bad as the bloody LARPers, he sat quietly at the back and listened to the talk.

As Harry escaped the room five minutes later, he couldn't help but think how wrong his initial assumption was. That room was much worst than the bloody LARPers. He had managed to stumble on an impromptu talk about fanfiction. Slash fanfiction to be exact. Sam and Dean slash. Harry shivered as he tried to purge his mind of the memory. Where the hell did people even come up with ideas like that anyway? Harry got to the bar and ordered himself something strong and gulped it as he was joined by Sam and Hermione, who had just finished bribing the manager for information.

He had seen Dean heading towards him at the bar, and had thought he had looked more than a little annoyed, but had written it off as the kind of annoyance one gets when stuck in a room full of fans. He had been immensely shocked when Dean had halted directly in front of him and asked – no, _demanded_ – information from him. Harry felt annoyance flare up inside of him within seconds of Dean's order. He hated anyone ordering him around, and he couldn't say why Dean Winchester demanding anything of him made him angrier and more infuriated than if anyone else were to it.

Standing up straight, he saw Dean take in involuntary step back. "You have no right to demand anything of me Dean Winchester. You should remember that." Harry tried to keep up his angelic persona, but an edge managed to slip into his voice.

Dean took a step closer to the angel, ignoring the little warning voice that was shouting at him to not do it. "I do when you keep important information to yourself that Sammy and I might need to know!" Dean hissed at the Seraphim, glaring into his icy green eyes. "I guess you thought that the fact you were the Angel or Master of Death or whatever wasn't important!"

Harry had to try incredibly hard to keep the shock out of his expression. He had no idea how Dean had managed to find out the information. He had a sneaking suspicion that Chuck had something to do with it, but he had put as many shielding and hiding charms and spells as he could think of on himself, Castiel and Hermione, using his magic, the Hallows and his Grace. Chuck must have seen the information before he had gotten around to hiding them. "You had no need to know any of that information." Harry kept the emotion from his voice, which was an amazing achievement, considering just how angry he was at that moment.

"No need to know?" Dean was fuming and the Seraphim's lack of reaction was only fanning the flames of his anger. "Don't give me that bullshit! We need to know stuff like that!"

Harry took a step closer to the oldest Winchester brother and looked him straight in the eye. This time, he couldn't keep the fury out of his features and voice. "People in glass houses should not throw rocks, Winchester. You can your brother have kept some important information from me, or have you forgotten that? If not for Gabriel, I would not know the extent to which you and Sam are buried in shit. You allow me to help you, whilst only giving me half the information! Yet you have no regard for how dangerous that could have been for me!"

Dean felt a shiver of fear travel through his body as he felt the power and rage rolling of the Seraphim before him in waves. But he refused to back down. "You are just like the rest of the angelic bastards! We don't need your help. We were doing just fine before you came along!"

Ezekiel seemed to get control of himself and leaned down closer to Dean's face. "Tell that to Bobby." Ezekiel took a step back and leaned back against the bar once more, a blank expression carefully plastered on his face. "I can see that you don't want my help and believe that you don't need it. I will leave you to your Hunt. You will get no further assistance from me."

Harry watched as Dean stalked away from, followed a minute later by his anxious younger brother. Harry flagged down the barman and got himself a glass of the strongest alcohol they had. Hermione stepped in front of him and watched as he downed the drink. Harry looked up and saw the question in her eyes.

"You should go and help them. I know you want to." Harry saw Hermione raise a delicate eyebrow. He rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine. I'm not going to get drunk; I just need a drink to calm myself down before I did something stupid. Like smite him. Castiel would be pissed at me if I did that." Harry sent a grin at his sister, showing her he was calming down already. She looked him over one last time and nodded. Harry had always loved how she could figure him out without ever saying a word. Harry gave her a gentle smile and kissed her softly on the cheek. She smiled back and ran to catch up with the Winchester brothers. Harry signalled for a beer this time, and settled himself on a chair. It was going to be long night.

* * *

Hermione swirled the ice in her drink and looked around the room subtly. Harry was nowhere to be seen. She was sat with Sam and Dean, trying to get information about the hotel and its potential haunting. Sam was on the phone to some guy who could possibly have some information for them. Dean came back from the bar and set a fresh drink in front of Hermione, who looked at him and gave him a smile.

Dean returned the smile and saw her gaze once again sweep the room, obviously trying to search out her brother. "I guess he really won't help then."

"No." Hermione answered distractedly, her eyes still flitting around. "Once he is in this kind of mood, it is near impossible to get him to change his mind. He's been like that since we first met."

Dean couldn't help the question that slipped out. "How long have you known him?"

"Since I was eleven. He was a stubborn git then, and he has only gotten worst." Hermione opened her mouth to say more, but Sam had finished up his phone call.

"Okay, so that was a guy with the County Historical Society. Not only did Leticia Gore butcher four boys, but one of them was her own son," Sam begins.

"Her son?" Dean repeats.

"Yeah. According to the police at the time, she scalped the poor kid," Sam tells them.

"Oh that's it, I'm gonna deep fry this bitch extra crispy," Dean says. "Dude say where she was buried?"

"He doesn't know," Sam replies. He looks over at Hermione as she finished her soft drink. "Ezekiel isn't helping with this Hunt then?"

Hermione shook her head, and Dean couldn't help but mutter. "Just when his Angel of Death powers could be helpful." He yelped and glared at Sam as he kicked him in the shins. Sam just glared back and went to kick him again, but Dean moved his legs out of the way.

"Dude, what are you? Five?"

* * *

Harry smiled at the barman and another hotel worker as they all sat on the chairs in the corner of the room that the conference was located in. Harry had noticed them sat there and went to join them. It had been a little frigid at first, until Harry made it clear that he was as far away from a Supernatural fan as possible. The staff had warmed up to him after that and they had a great time bitching about the nerdy fans. Harry was just starting on a fresh beer, laughing as he listened to the maid's story about one of the fans having a breakdown after Chuck announced that they were going to start publishing and how she had to give him CPR when he passed out, when he suddenly felt his surroundings change. He stiffened for a second, before subtly letting the magic of the Hallows seep out and connect with his surroundings. Harry could feel a wandering soul being forced into the afterlife, but there were still a few dark shadows lingering in the background. It seemed the Winchesters had gotten one soul, but had missed a few others. Harry shook his head and rejoined the conversation around him.

"Harry."

Harry turned in his seat and grinned as his sister sat next to him. "Hey. Hunt go ok?"

"Yeah." Hermione looked around the room. "Why are you in here?"

"I want to hear Chuck's closing speech. And then I might be having a few words with him about sharing information with certain Winchesters. And I don't think your Hunt is quite done yet."

"What?" Hermione looked down at Harry's hand as he tapped the black and silver ring there. "You couldn't have told us this earlier? Maybe whilst we were still digging up graves?"

"Nope." Harry gave another grin, this one filled with mischief. "It is more fun this way. Besides, Winchester is the one that insisted they were doing just fine without my help."

"Can't you be the bigger person and swallow your pride to move past this argument?" Hermione asked exasperated. "You two are like little children in the playground."

"Hermione, how long have you known me?" Harry asked. "You know how I am. I'm not the one that needs to let this go. I don't want to talk about it any more." He quickly added when Hermione tried to argue some more with him.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stood up to leave the room just as Chuck entered and climbed on to the stage. She scowled as Harry glared at her and punched him, hard, in the arm. Harry rubbed the spot and gave his sister a pathetic pout as she left the room as the talks started. Harry turned and listened to the prophet speak, imagining all the things he was going to do to him once he got that little chat alone with Chuck about fact sharing.

Harry yawned and ignored the evil looks those fans around him were giving him as Chuck finished off his speech.

"Well guys, I guess we're out of time, so…Thank you for your incredibly probing, rigorous questions. And have a good night." Harry makes to stand up, but Sam runs up on the stage suddenly and whispers in Chuck's ear. "What? Holy crap!" Chuck yells. Harry frowns, but guesses that the Winchesters had finally worked out that they had crisped the wrong ghost. In fact, they seemed to have made the problem worst. So much for world-saving heroes. Sam whispers one last thing and leaves as Chuck turns back to the audience. "Okay. So, good news. I got much more to tell you. I guess. It's awesome."

Harry relaxed back in his seat, mentally timing how long it was taking the Winchesters to rectify their idiotic mistake. He was up to five minutes when the hotel manager and his staff were shunted into the room by the older Winchester sibling. Harry frowned. He had not realised that the situation was so bad that the Winchesters had to seal everyone into the conference room whilst they dealt with their self-induced problem. Harry hoped Hermione was ok, but he knew she could handle herself. She had survived through the War with him after all.

Harry tuned back into what the Prophet was saying. "Uh, what does the future hold for Sam and Dean?" Chuck is saying. "Well, how do you feel about angels? Yeah, no, cause let me tell you – they're not nearly as lame as you'd think." Chuck stopped as someone shouted out a question. His eyes widened slightly and his gaze locked with Harry's, who grinned at him. "Yeah, Ezekiel will be in it, along with all his awesome powers. And, erm…..I don't really know where my inspiration for him comes from. It just kind of appeared in my brain." Harry had to give it to Chuck; he had managed to answer that question without lying.

Harry checked his watch twenty minutes later and was mildly worried that the brothers hadn't managed to deal with their small ghost haunting yet. He really did wonder what was taking them so long, when a commotion at the back of the room had him jumping out of his seat, shoving stunned fans out of the way in his hurry. The manager had tried to leave and had broken the salt line over the doorway. Chuck, moving faster than Harry had thought possible, jumped off the stage and hit the ghost with the microphone stand.

"I said no one leaves, damnit! Now somebody salt this door."

Harry was about to turn away from the door as Chuck went back to the stage, but the guy that had leapt forward to straighten the salt line was shaking so badly that he knocked a bigger hole in the salt. He screamed and tried to scramble backwards as the manic, knife-wielding child ghost jumped at him. Harry raised his hand and threw his entire concentration behind the thought to stop the ghost. The knife stopped mere millimetres from the guy's skull. Harry stalked through the stunned spectators and pulled the guy to his feet. The ghost-child glared hatefully at him.

"Thanks. That was damn close." The guy was still gripping Harry's arm, and he had a hard time shaking him off. When Harry turned back, the ghost had disappeared. Sighing, Harry used a silent spell to complete and straighten the salt.

"Little bastard managed to slip out. I must be loosing my touch." Harry muttered to himself. Turning to the stunned crowd, Harry rolled his eyes at the disbelieving looks on the faces surrounding him. Christ, what nerds. "You all need to stay in this room and let the experts deal with the problem. You can leave once we are done."

Some guy dressed as a black-eyed demon stepped forward, and Harry vaguely recognised him as the guy handing out books earlier on in the day. The guy shook himself out of his stupor. "What? Who the hell are you and why should we follow your advice? We need to leave!"

The annoyance at the whole day that Harry had been trying so hard to suppress all came flooding back as this guy – dressed as a demon no less! – tried to argue with Harry about the best course of action. Harry couldn't help himself as the irritation was clearly shown on his face and his green eyes glinted with fury. At least the Winchesters were elsewhere, so Harry hadn't broken his promise to his uncle. Harry allowed his Grace to leave him in one powerful wave as the man tried to leave the room, followed by several other morons. Everyone in the room felt the power rolling from the man and it caused the hair on the back of everyone's necks to stand up. The lights flickered and shadowy wings appeared behind Harry, extending up with a menacing air. It was gone in seconds and left everyone breathless.

"Anyone else want to have some sort of breakdown and argue with me?" Harry asked lightly. No one answered him and continued to stare. Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He concentrated on getting his emotions and shoving them into a tiny box at the very back of his mind. It took him a few moments of furious wrestling, but the fury and annoyance was finally stuffed away. Putting on his 'angel' mask, Harry used his Grace to track down his sister and transport him there.

Hermione was on floor right next to the doorway. Harry swiftly knelt next to her and checked her pulse. She stirred as he lightly probed her skull and found a bump there. Harry was about to heal her, when shouting caught his attention.

Sam and Dean were being thrown around by the ghostly children. Harry rolled his eyes and once again thought how it was possible for two well seasoned Hunters to not only mess up a Hunt, but make it worst than it was to begin with. Dean was wrestling unsuccessfully with a knife that was precariously close to his head and Sam was trying to move backwards away from another crazy-knife-wielding-child-ghost, which wasn't possible because his back was already against the wall. Harry watched for a moment, remembering that he had promised he wasn't going to help. But the knives moved closer towards their victims and Harry couldn't help but interfere. Damn his saving people thing.

Dean struggled with the knife that the kid was trying to scalp him with. Goddamn it, these kids need a timeout or something! Dean could hear his brother shouting his name, but he was a little bit tied up at that moment, trying to not be scalped and all. The kid was suddenly ripped away from him, a furious and almost petulant look on its ghostly face. Dean caught his breath and looked around, first checking on Sammy. Seeing his brother was uninjured and his scalp intact, Dean tried to see where the ghosts had gone.

The ghost children were stood before Ezekiel, trying in vain to get to the Seraphim. It seemed like they were stuck by some kind of invisible barrier. The angel was watching them struggle, his face carefully blank.

"Aren't you going to get rid of them?" Sam asked, picking himself up and checking himself over.

"It gives me pleasure and entertainment to watch them struggle." The ghosts struggled harder against the barrier to get to the angel, but it didn't make a difference. "I suppose I should force them to move on. They may try to kill more of the paying guests."

Ezekiel made to raise his hand, but the ghosts suddenly screamed and disappeared in a burst of flames before his hand was even above waist height. Ezekiel merely raised and eyebrow. "It would seem that someone else has done it before me." The angel turned and knelt down next to Hermione, who was now fully awake, and just in time to see the ghosts disappear. Ezekiel tenderly laid a hand on her head for a moment and then pulled away, gently pulling the brunette to her feet with him. Sam rushed over to check she was ok, and the angel handed her over to the youngest Winchester brother.

* * *

"No Chuck, I'm not going to kill you." Harry rolled his eyes at the prophet's melodrama. "I don't think that would make God happy. Who else is going to write the new version of the Bible? Besides, there is some kind of rule against killing Prophets or something."

Chuck let out a sigh of relief. "Good, I kind of don't want to die. I've only just got my new book deal." Both prophet and angel looked around at the mass of people around them. There was a distinct space around them. Harry guessed people were still slightly awed by his display back in the conference room, even though both he and Chuck had told everyone that it was all special effects and part of the convention.

"Yeah. You have my number. If you need anything at all, Chuck, give me a call. I can be here in a couple of seconds."

Chuck shook Harry's hand. "Thanks. That means a lot. I hope I see you again in the future."

Harry smiled as the prophet walked away and joined Becky. He didn't know what it was, but there was something about the man that he couldn't quite place. Maybe it was just because this was the first prophet he had met. Harry shook himself as he saw Hermione say something to Sam and then blush slightly when he hesitantly leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his features as she came over to him, still red.

Dean watched as Hermione wandered back over to Ezekiel, a faint blush still on her face and down her neck from Sammy giving her a kiss on the cheek. Dean couldn't help the amazement that he felt when a playful smirk crossed the angel's normally stoic features. It completely changed him – it made him seem almost…human. But Dean immediately shook that stupid notion out of his mind. Ezekiel wasn't human and had managed to piss Dean off no end by keeping secrets from them. Goddamn big secrets. Secrets that Dean was determined to weed out.

"Well, you're not gonna believe it, but I got a lead on the Colt," Sam says, bounding over to his brother, a silly grin still on his face.

"What?" Dean asks, surprised.

"Long story. Tell you on the way?" Sam replies.

Dean shrugs. "What're we waiting for?" Sammy gets into the passenger side of the car and Dean glances back. Ezekiel and Hermione have both disappeared. "I'm gonna be just a minute. I need to make a call." Sammy shrugs.

Dean walks a short distance away from the car so that he can't be overheard and pulls out his phone. He quickly scrolls through the numbers until he finds the right contact.

"Hey. Yeah, it's Dean Winchester. I need some help. Yeah, I know it could be a few weeks. You just do your thing." Dean listens for a moment. "I need you to find me all the information that you can on a born British wizard called Harry James Potter."


	10. Chapter 10

Harry stood in the shadows, cloaked by his magic so he couldn't be detected by anyone (or anything), and watched as Jo and Hermione kicked some demonic arse. When the Winchesters had called them – or more precisely, Sam had asked Hermione in one of their long and frequent phone conversations – and asked for their help, Harry had been reluctant to aid the two brothers. It was bad enough that he had found out they were withholding important information from him, but he was still seriously pissed off by Dean Winchester. Harry knew he should let the grudge go, especially seeing as he had to work with the brothers to stop the Apocalypse, but Harry was holding onto this grudge, for reasons even he didn't fully understand. Harry didn't want to look too closely at his emotions right now. He wouldn't admit it, but he was scared that if he examined them too closely, he might find something that he couldn't deal with.

Harry saw Hermione give one of the demons a right hook and winced slightly. That sure looked like it hurt, and Harry couldn't help but grin as the memory of Hermione punching the ferret, Draco Malfoy, the same way years ago came into his mind. It seemed like she hadn't lost that amazing punch that she claimed to have learnt at a woman's self-defence class years before. Harry saw Sam finish off the demon with the demon-killing knife.

"Nice work ladies." Dean sauntered over with a bag in his hands and Harry saw his sister roll her eyes in a playful manner at the way Dean had referred to her and Jo. Dean looked at her for a moment, before voicing the question that was in his gaze. "Ezekiel not joining us on this little mission?"

"He said he would be here when he was needed. He said that we could handle this part by ourselves."

Harry saw Dean open his mouth, no doubt to make some kind of smart-mouth reply, when Jo interrupted him. "Shall we?" Jo pulled out a pair of pliers.

Harry watched as the small group entered the building stealthily. He quickly connected with the power of the Hallows and felt for the presence of any souls. He immediately felt his sister, Jo and the two Winchester brothers, easily being able to identify each of them. He could also feel the souls of demons inside the building. Every soul had their own feel, a uniqueness that distinguished them from all else. Harry had learnt the feel of his sister's and uncle's souls long ago and could recognise them without trying. He was just learning the Winchesters', deciding that if he needed to work with them, then he should learn all he could about them. The demons' souls dripped with corruption, so much that it was almost overwhelming. Harry could hardly believe that people could be twisted so much that there wasn't even the smallest spark of humanity left in them. Harry's eyes snapped open when he felt two of the demonic souls inside the impressive building extinguish.

Harry silently appeared in the shadows behind his sister and observed what was happening, ready to jump in if there was some kind of threat posed.

"You wouldn't happen to know where the Devil is, by any chance, would you?" Sam is asking, an almost sarcastic yet hopeful tone in his voice.

Crowley appears to be thinking deeply, a small frown on his lips. "Thursday... birdies tell me he has an appointment in Carthage, Missouri."

Sam nods. "Great. Thanks." He raises the gun, points it at Crowley's head, and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens, and Harry rolls his eyes. He knew that some demons weren't renowned for their genius levels of intelligence, but he was amazed that the Winchesters thought Crowley was some kind of idiot. You didn't get to his level in the demonic world by being stupid.

"Oh yeah, right, you probably need some more ammunition," Crowley says calmly, and walks away to his desk. He smirks as he throws the small bag in his hand to Dean, who catches it with a scowl.

"Uh, excuse me for asking, but aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean what happens to you if we go up against the Devil and lose?" Dean asks.

"Number one, he's gonna wipe us all out anyway. Two, after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to All Points, Nowhere. And three, how about YOU DON'T MISS? OKAY? MORONS?" Crowley glowers at the Winchesters and turns away from them. Harry decided that he had enough in the shadows and allowed his anti-detection spells dissolve. He saw Crowley stiffen as soon as he felt Harry's presence.

"Well, maybe you guys have a chance after all." Crowley turned slowly and looked Harry up and down. "I've not felt something as powerful as you in a long time. I don't think Lilith even had the power that is rolling off you in waves."

"It's so good to know that we have your support in this." Harry kept his tone carefree, but there was a dangerous and sarcastic edge to it that everyone picked up on.

"What are you? You're no demon, I can tell that much." Crowley narrowed his gaze. "You have an almost…..pure, angelic edge to you. But there is something darker underneath – a shadow."

"What I am is of little concern to you." Harry turned his back on the demon before him. "You should go and plan that holiday. Lucifer isn't the easiest thing to hide from."

"And yet you manage to remain hidden from him and for this long as well. I'm impressed."

Dean watched as the Seraphim looked at the demon, turning swiftly. Ezekiel's gaze was hard as he evaluated Crowley with emerald eyes. "I will not always remain hidden from him. He will discover me eventually. Sooner rather than later. And when that happens, I expect him to stop at nothing to reach me. For your sake, you should find a hole and hide in it if you value your pitiful, demonic afterlife." The Angel left the room silently, his pace steady and graceful, leaving behind a demon that seemed to have no reply.

* * *

Dean chuckled to himself as he watched Ellen pour shots of some form of hard liquor into glasses set before Castiel. Jo was sat with her mother, a mystified expression on her face, and Hermione was sat with Castiel. She had a brilliant smile on her face as she watched the Angel and Dean could easily see why his brother found her attractive. But as pretty as she was, Dean found his gaze wandering to the figure stood behind Castiel, a hand on his shoulder in support. Ezekiel had a blank expression on his face, but Dean could see an almost invisible spark in his brilliant green eyes.

"I think I am beginning to feel something." Dean saw Ellen smirk in humour and confusion and the two younger women giggle.

"You aren't feeling anything, Castiel." Ezekiel's silky voice filled the room, sending an involuntary shiver down Dean's spine. "You know that alcohol affects the human vessel that you are in, not you."

"I don't get it." Jo looked at the Seraphim in confusion. Dean felt some emotion well up in his chest as he saw Ezekiel give her a small smile, but he crushed it before it could be defined.

"The biology of the vessel doesn't normally affect the angelic presence inside it. It takes an external supernatural force to connect the body to the soul of the angel. Just like a bullet wouldn't kill an angel, alcohol only affects the physical body."

Dean turned from the Seraphim and paid more attention to what his brother was saying next to him. Dean gripped his beer tighter and focused.

"It's gotta be a trap, right?"

Dean smiled, amused. "Sam Winchester, having trust issues with a demon. Well, better late than never."

Sam smirks at his older brother and raises his beer bottle in a silent salute. "And thank you again, for your continued support."

"You're welcome," Dean replies. Dean clinks the bottles together and takes a long drag of his beer. "You know, trap or no trap, if we've got a snowball's chance, we've gotta take it right?" Dean says, his gaze turning serious.

Sam shrugs, absently picking at the label on his beer bottle. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Besides, I'm not sure it is a trap," Dean says. "Check it out." He showeds Sam some papers that he had next to him. "I mean, Carthage is lit up like a Christmas tree with Revelation omens. And, look at this. There's been six missing persons reported – in town – since Sunday. I think the Devils there."

"Okay," Sam agrees easily, confident in his brother's research and Hunting skills.

"But if we think about it," Dean says carefully, "you can't come with us."

"Dean," Sam tries to cut in, but Dean keeps talking over him, desperately trying to win an almost impossible battle with his younger sibling.

"Look, I go get Satan and screw the pooch? Okay. Yeah, we've lost a game piece. That we can take. But if you're there, then we are handing the Devil's vessel right over to him. That's not smart."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Since when have we ever done anything smart?"

"I'm serious, Sam," Dean replies.

"So am I," Sam snaps. "Haven't we learned a damn thing? If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it together."

They look at each other for a long moment, until Dean sighs and picks up his beer. He knew it was an impossible argument to win. "Okay. But it's a stupid frigging idea." Dean allows his eyes to wander back to the Seraphim, who was currently downing drinks in what seemed like a race against his angelic uncle. Dean forced his gaze away from the dark-haired angel, determined to get his mind away from the one topic that he didn't want to contemplate in what could be his last living hours. He allowed his gaze to rove over the room, trying to find something else to settle on. He found it in Jo wandering over to the fridge.

"Boy. Talk about stupid ideas," Sam comments, catching his brother's attention. Dean could see Sam raise an eyebrow at him and shook his head silently. He knew what his brother would want to talk about, and it involved a certain Seraphim of the Lord and ridiculously romantic notions. Sam stared Dean down for a moment, before sighing and getting up. With one last look at his older brother, he quietly went and sat next to Hermione, who greeted him with a brilliant and sweet smile.

Dean watched his brother for a minute, before turning his brain off so thoughts of a green-eyed Seraphim couldn't invade them and turned to watch Jo get something out of the fridge. "Good God," Dean says to himself quietly. "Screw that." He gets up and wanders over to where the blonde is leaning against the counter. He didn't want to think right now, he just wanted to act and have some goddamn light-hearted banter and fun.

"Hey," Dean smiles, and gives Jo his classic Dean Winchester smile – the smile that had gotten him into more women's beds across the country than he could count.

"Hey," she replies.

"So. Dangerous mission tomorrow," Dean comments, leaning back on the counter. Jo nods. "Guess it's time to eat, drink, and – you know," Dean says, a flirtatious edge to his voice.

"Make merry." Jo looks at him, an eyebrow raised in question. "Are you giving me the 'Last Night On Earth' speech?"

"What?" Dean says. "No! No. If I was, would – would that work?"

She smiles, then puts her hand on the side of his head, leaning close enough to kiss him and so Dean could feel her warm breath, then stops. "No. Sweetheart, if this is our last night on Earth, then I'm going to spend it with a little thing I call self-respect." She laughs.

Dean shrugs, as though he didn't care. Dean was actually secretly relieved that she hadn't taken him up on his offer. "If you're into that kind of thing."

Jo laughed again, shaking her head in amusement. But she stopped when she raised her head and gave a sigh of appreciation. "However, if it were him who was offering….."

Dean looked up and saw Ezekiel wandering towards the fridge, apparently sent by Ellen to get another bottle of liquor. Ezekiel stopped just before them when he heard Jo's comment and raised a black eyebrow in question. "If I were offering what?"

Jo smirked at him. "If you offered to make my last night on Earth memorable, I would jump at the chance."

Dean saw the Angel's other eyebrow join his other one as he looked over the blonde. What Dean wasn't expecting was a flirtatious little grin to grace Ezekiel's features. Dean couldn't help but stare in amazement at the show of emotion the Seraphim was displaying and had to squash a flare of jealousy that the grin wasn't directed at him.

"Really? I did not know you wanted to jump me Jo. You should have just asked – I would be _more _than happy to oblige you. Just not in front of your mother eh?"

Jo gave a huge laugh and smiled at Ezekiel. "Oh I would love to get you alone." Jo's gaze swept the Seraphim's body. Dean followed her gaze. The Seraphim was certainly good-looking. "The things I could do with that amazing body of yours…"

Ezekiel opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Bobby. Dean was secretly relieved that Bobby's usual bad timing was working to his advantage. Dean forced those thoughts out of his mind and was pushed into place by his brother, who had apparently seen the entire exchange between Jo and Ezekiel. There was a playful banter going on as Bobby set the camera to automatic, but it was completely ruined by Castiel's bluntness. Dean felt all his tension make a reappearance and couldn't help it as his thoughts turned back to his regrets. And his biggest regret was stood right next to him, scowling at his uncle for ruining the night's fun. Dean caught his brother's eye from where he was stood, his arm lightly wrapped around Hermione's waist. The sympathy and worry that Sammy was directing at him was too much and he had to turn away.

* * *

Harry stood still, a blank expression carefully arranged on his face as he looked around him. There were so many Reapers. He could feel them weighing heavily on him, his power as Master of Death automatically weaving around his soul and mingling with his Grace and magical core. He closed his eyes and allowed the powers to combine. It wasn't something he did very often; he preferred to keep them separate. But as the Apocalypse progressed and the End came nearer and nearer, he found himself using all of his powers at once more often.

A car pulled up a short distance from him, and Harry could feel the souls of his sister, Jo and Ellen inside. He kept his expression carefully neutral as they got out of the car and joined the Winchester brothers a few metres away from him. He stuffed all of his emotions into his little mental box at the back of his mind and carefully made his way over to the group.

"Have you seen Cas?" Ellen asks the group, glancing between them, her gaze settling on Harry.

"What? He was with you," Sam replies, a heavy frown gracing his features.

"Nope. He went after the Reapers," Ellen says, a worried frown on her face. It was reassuring that Castiel had people who were genuinely worried about him, but it did nothing to help Harry's apprehension about the entire situation. Castiel was a powerful angel, but they could not normally feel Reapers unless they made a great effort to, even a group of Reapers this size.

"Reapers?" Dean repeats, his gaze darting around, looking unconsciously for something he knew he wouldn't be able to see.

"He saw Reapers? Where?" Sam asks.

"Well kind of... everywhere," Jo replies. The brothers look at each other, concern evident in their gazes.

Harry took a small step closer to the group. "There are many Reapers here. They only come at times of great disaster or if they are forced here by Supernatural means."

Dean watched as Ezekiel continued to look around at the empty space around them intently, almost as if he could see the Reapers. Dean didn't know that Angels could see Reapers; Castiel had never mentioned it to them. Dean was about to turn away from the Seraphim, when Ezekiel suddenly raised his right hand, the black stone on his ring flashed eerily for a second. Dean heard Ellen and Jo gasp, and turned to see what was wrong. Surrounding them were hundreds of familiar looking men in black suits. Before he could react, they faded from sight. Dean forced down all the motions that he was feeling at such a powerful display by the Seraphim, but it wasn't the first time he wondered just how powerful the Angel really was. He completely ignored what had just happened and continued as though the Angel had never even spoken. "Well this is great, we've only been in town for twenty minutes and we've already lost one angel up our sleeve," Dean says, pulling his shotgun higher as the group set off down the road.

"You think Lucifer got him?" Sam wonders, his brown eyes on the stoic Seraphim.

"I dunno what else to think," Dean replies.

"I really hope – as should you - that Lucifer hasn't got to Castiel. And not just because we all know what he would do to him." Hermione's voice was quiet and calm, although there was a worried edge to it. She was right next to Sam, and had only commented loud enough so that the brothers could hear her.

"What do you mean?"

"Lucifer was sent to Hell before Ezekiel was born and so doesn't know that he has inherited his Mother's Grace and rank. If he found out just how much power he has, Lucifer will stop at nothing to get him on his side." Hermione had a frown on her face and her eyes shone with fear and worry for her brother. "He would never join Lucifer. He would rather die first. And that is what I fear more than anything."

Sam put his arm around the brunette. "We aren't going to let that happen. We are a team and we will stick together until the end. Right Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a female voice. "There you are." The group turned and saw a lone woman standing a little way off from them.

"Meg," Sam says, a hard edge to his voice. Sam takes his arm off Hermione's shoulder, but steps forward so that his taller frame is completely shielding her.

Meg smiles and shakes her head. "Shouldn't have come here, boys. And neither should your little friends." Meg glanced at the brunette behind Sam, a malicious gleam in her eyes. Sam glared at her, but it was Ezekiel that stepped forward, anger slipping out from behind his careful mask.

"Yeah, I could say the same thing for you," Dean says, walking forward and aiming the Colt at her.

"Didn't come here alone, Deano," Meg says. Beside her, there's a splash in one of the puddles and growling echoes all around the group.

Dean glances around nervously, the hand holding the Colt shaking almost unperceptively. "Hellhounds."

"Yeah Dean! Your favourite," Meg says, the malicious and manic gleam increasing with every second. "Come on boys. My father wants to see you. And I'm sure he would love to meet your little girlfriend Sam." Sam moved back so he was closer to Hermione, but Ezekiel stepped closer to the demon, his mask almost completely gone. Meg gave him a sweet smile. "But more than them, he can't wait to meet you. He has just found out all about you, _Ezekiel. _He felt you as soon as you came to the town. So, let's get moving people."

"I think we'll pass, thanks," Sam says.

"Your call," Meg says. "You can make this easy, or you can make it really really hard."

Dean glances back at Ellen, who nods. He looks back at Meg. "When have you known us to ever make anything easy?" He shoots the hellhound next to her even though he can't see it, and blood sprays. The entire group, minus Ezekiel run towards the closest building. Hermione and Sam are the first there, Sam using his height and weight to push open the door.

Dean is just about to run after the group, when a Hellhound is too quick for him and pins him to the floor, its putrid and hot breath scorching his face. He vaguely hears Jo shouting his name as he struggles to keep the snapping jaw away from him. He screams at the blonde to run, but she ignores him. Dean struggles harder as the Hellhound is getting dangerously close to his face and neck. But it suddenly slumps and Dean looks at Jo in surprise as she finishes it off with a few more rounds. His surprise turns to horror, however, when an invisible force knocks into her from behind. Blood pours from her stomach as the Hellhound claws her roughly. Jo's screams pierce the air.

Dean rushed forward as Jo falls to the floor, the Hellhound put down by shots from his brother and Ellen. Dean tries to stem the blood flow, but there is just so damn much! Sam and Ellen are still a distance away from them, and Dean freezes when he hears growls, low and menacing, really close to him and Jo. Dean braces himself as the growls get louder and closer, but a figure is suddenly between him and the Hellhound. Ezekiel stands in front of them, his right hand raised, shadows weaving out of the black stone on his ring. Dean looks up and sees that the Hellhound has appeared as a shadowed form when the tendrils from the ring reach it. Meg is shouting in rage and the Hellhound makes to jump at the Angel. Dean moves to help Ezekiel, but before he can, the Hellhound is on the Seraphim, one of its claws catching his shoulder. Dean can do nothing but gawp as a silver blade appears in the Seraphim's hand and he efficiently kills it, the shadowed form slumping to the ground.

Dean picked up Jo and they run to join the group in what appears to be the town hardware store. As Sam chains the door shut, invisible weights bounce off the door and frustrated howls echo around the group. Dean ignores the trail of blood behind him and gently lays Jo down on the floor. Dean feels the worry well up inside him as he takes in just how badly hurt she is. He shakes his head and moves out of Ellen's way as she swiftly moves to her daughter's side.

After Dean has quickly and efficiently salted all the doors and windows, he looks around. Sam is fiddling with the radio, Ellen is whispering to Jo and trying to stop the bleeding, and Hermione is stood with a shirtless Ezekiel. They appear to be arguing about the deep scratch on his shoulder. Not a second later, Hermione is shouting at her brother.

"Harry, it is going to hurt like hell. If we just bandage you, we can heal it properly later."

Ezekiel didn't even acknowledge the slip of the name 'Harry'. He grabbed his sister's hand and rubbed soothing circles over the back of it, whispering calmly to her. She reluctantly nodded a minute later and pulled a small glass vial out of her back. She looked at it for a second, before handing it to Ezekiel. Hermione didn't even glance back as she walked over to help Sam. Dean turned from where he was watching his brother and Hermione and saw Ezekiel watching him. The Seraphim beckoned him over with a slight wince of pain.

"I need your help with this. Hermione refuses to, because she thinks I'm stupid to do it this way."

Dean nodded, but couldn't help the question that slipped out. "Why doesn't she agree?"

"Because this way is extremely painful and will leave a scar." Ezekiel suddenly met Dean's gaze. "But I have to heal as fast as possible. The scratch from a Hellhound is sapping my energy gradually as my body tries to heal it. I need as much as my energy as I can gather – to find my Uncle, avoid Lucifer and…to help Jo."

Dean looked over to where the blonde was being hugged by her mother, and nodded silently to the Angel. "Good." Ezekiel handed him the glass vial. "I can't reach it properly, but I need you to pour all of the contents of this over the scratch. Don't stop until it is empty."

Dean uncorked the vial and almost jumped his shock when the Seraphim grabbed his other hand in his own. Dean shook himself and tried to ignore the contact as he quickly tipped the lime green liquid over the scratches. He watched, in morbid fascination, as the wounds began to bubble and smoke. He saw the skin knit together, but couldn't watch anymore, because the hand gripping his own tightened a hell of a lot and he looked up at the Seraphim's face. Ezekiel had his eyes clenched shut, he was biting his lip so hard he was almost breaking the skin and his breathing was shallow. As soon as it started, it was over and Dean glanced at where the wound was, only to see fresh scars. Ezekiel's breathing evened out and he suddenly seemed to realise that he was gripping Dean's hand. He pulled away and put his t-shirt back on.

"So," Dean said, partly out of curiosity and partly to cover up his disappointment at the loss of contact with the Angel. "Why can't we use some of that on Jo?"

The Angel turned back to the Hunter and answered, a sad look on his features. "That was a potion and it requires a magical core – something that one is born with –to make it work. It only works on myself and Hermione. But I'm going to try and heal Jo."

Ezekiel walked away and knelt next to Jo, indicating that Ellen should move back to make room for him, which she did reluctantly. Dean moved closer, careful not to disturb the Angel. Sam and Hermione were still at the radio, telling Bobby what had happened and getting information out of him about where Lucifer could be and what his plans could be. A blinding light filled the room, and Dean looked quickly at Jo, hoping that the Seraphim had healed her. But Jo was just as pale and injured as before. Dean felt his grief well up inside him again.

"Why didn't it work? What is wrong?" There was an edge of desperation in Ellen's voice.

"The Hellhound bite works its way into a person's body. As I try to heal her, the bite fights my Grace from the inside. I need to get behind it, and close it in somehow. But, I can't get my Grace inside her, the bite resists it!" Ezekiel stood and ran a rough hand through his hair in frustration.

"Don't" Everyone turned and looked at the pale blonde as Jo tried to sit up straighter. "Don't blame yourself. This is nobody's fault. If I can give you the chance to kill Lucifer, I would die a thousand times to stop the Apocalypse."

"You're not going to die! You hear me? I won't let that happen!" Ellen had tears running down her cheeks.

"Mom, please." Jo gave her a weak smile. "I could maybe take some of the Hellhounds with me – give you guys a chance." Jo turned a forced smirk to Ezekiel. "You know, I should have followed through on that offer that I gave you."

Ezekiel looked down at Jo from where he was stood a few metres away. The smile on his face was forced, but still breath-taking. "I knew you wanted to jump me, Jo. I'm just too damn good-looking."

Jo gave a stuttering laugh. "Yeah, just so damn sexy." The sarcasm was dripping from Jo's words. "I didn't even get a kiss."

Ezekiel suddenly froze. "A kiss….." he muttered. No one, not even Jo, could predict his next move, With grace, Ezekiel suddenly knelt down next to Jo, placing a softly glowing hand on her stomach over the bloody wound. He gently held her face with his other hand and pressed his lips to hers. Everyone just stood gawping as a faint light emitted from their joined lips. A second later, Ezekiel pulled away and stood up, swaying slightly on his feet.

"Jo…" Shock was evident in Ellen's voice and everyone turned to see that Jo was completely healed. Jo stood slowly and looked down at the unmarred skin on her stomach.

"You…..you healed me."

"Yes. I told you that I needed to heal you from the inside and outside, but the Hellhound bite stopped me from going through the wound. Then you mentioned a kiss and I thought that I could use my Grace in my breath and send it through your lungs. It was the only way I could think of."

"Thank you." Jo stared at the angel for a moment, before he cleared his throat. She hastily continued. "So, we still need to get out of here and find Lucifer."

"Bobby has found out where Lucifer will be raising Death." Sam tore his gaze away from Jo and Ezekiel and continued. "We just need a distraction for the Hellhounds."

"I'll do it." Everyone, once again, turned to stare at the Seraphim.

"No way!" Hermione stalked over to him and poked him in the chest. Dean had to admit, she looked scary when she was angry. "You have used loads of energy to heal Jo. You can't do this as well! I'll do it."

"There is not a chance in hell I'm letting you do this Hermione. Besides, I have enough energy for this. And I'm the only one who can see them and make them visible." Ezekiel tapped the ring on his finger and stared his sister down. Everyone saw the moment Ezekiel won the silent argument when Hermione's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Besides," Ezekiel's voice was soft. "I need you to go and find Castiel and make sure he is ok."

"Ok, so now that we have that sorted, we need to get to work." Sam, ever the voice of reason, took over the situation. "Hermione, Jo and Ellen will go and find Castiel. As soon as you find him, get him to zap you straight to Bobby's house. Dean and I are going to go and face Lucifer and hopefully stop the Horseman of Death."

"Ezekiel needs a distraction for the Hellhounds." Ellen's voice was even and calm, although she still had tear stains over her face and kept glancing at Jo, almost as if to reassure herself that her daughter was really ok and still alive. "We can build a bomb out of the stuff in here, and he can blow it up once everyone is out of the building and he can zap himself out before the bomb goes off if we set it up right. That should be distraction enough for him to kill the last few Hellhounds still out there."

"Sounds like a plan." Sam nodded. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Dean had almost finished building his portion of the multiple bombs that they were placing around the building when Jo came and stood next to him. Ellen was explaining to Ezekiel how the trigger and timer worked, and Sam was showing Hermione how to build the bomb, explaining each individual part. They were out of hearing distance and distracted, just as Jo seemed to want it.

"So," Jo watched as he fiddled with a few wires. "What is going on with you and Ezekiel?"

Dean's hands stilled on the wires, before he carried on. "I have no idea what you mean."

Jo rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't. You can't pretend that something isn't going on between you two."

Dean finally looked up. "There isn't anything going on between us and nothing ever will. So, if you want him, go ahead."

Jo stared at him for a moment. "Dean, I don't want him. That was a bit of banter between friends. I saw how you looked when he was flirting with me last night. And when he kissed me today. And you keep sending him these looks – I think he is the only one who doesn't notice them because everyone else sure as hell has. And I think he feels the same – although it is a little difficult to tell."

"I…" Dean saw Jo raise an eyebrow when he started to protest and knew that he couldn't lie to her. "Ok, I like him. But nothing is going to happen. He definitely doesn't feel the same about me. And there is the fact that he is an angel without a body. The meatsuit he is wearing has its original owner still stuck inside. There is no use pining over something that can never happen."

"Dean, you should at least try. Who knows how much time we have before the world officially ends? You deserve some happiness, more than anyone I know. Talk to him, and you will see that I'm right. What's the worst that can happen to you?"

"How about he smites me and throws my ass back into the hotbox downstairs?" Dean stood up. "This is done. Let's get going."

* * *

Harry panted as he killed the last of the Hellhounds. The Hardware store behind him was still roaring with flames and he allowed the knife that he had conjured to channel the power of the Hallows so he could kill the Hellhounds dissolve. He had used a hell of a lot of energy so far, and everything was becoming an effort. Most of his Grace was used healing Jo. The first time he tried, he had used the usual amount, but as he became more frustrated and upset that it wasn't working, he forced more and more of his Grace to heal Jo. By the time he had actually healed the blonde, his Grace was low and would take time to build back up. His power from the Hallows was low as well – killing Hellhounds wasn't as easy as one might think and he had to put a lot of effort into killing them, whilst trying to save enough energy for when he faced the Horseman. Harry pooled together as much power as he could and transported himself to where he could feel twisted soul of Lucifer.

"Don't feel too bad, Sam. There's only five things in all of creation that that gun can't kill, and I just happen to be one of them. But if you give me a minute? I'm almost done." Harry watched from behind the Winchester as Lucifer turned away from the brothers and goes back to digging the hole he was standing in. Harry sees Sam cross to where Dean is laying on the ground and check on him. "You know," Lucifer continues, "I don't suppose you'd just say yes here and now... end this whole tiresome discussion. That's crazy, right?"

"It's never gonna happen," Sam snaps loudly, standing up.

"Oh I dunno, Sam. I think it will," Lucifer says, going back to his work. "I think it'll happen soon. In six months. And I think it'll happen in Detroit."

"You listen to me, you son of a bitch," Sam says. "I'm gonna kill you myself! You understand me? I'm going to rip your heart out!"

"That's good, Sam. You keep fanning that fire in your belly," Lucifer says calmly. "All that pent up rage? I'm gonna need it." Lucifer suddenly smiles and carries on digging. "You can come out now."

Harry stepped up next to Sam, his hard gaze rapt as he watched Lucifer. "So, you are the little thing that is causing a stir in the family. The little rebel." Lucifer stops and leans on his shovel, his stance casual as he looks Harry up and down. "I've wanted to meet you for a while now, but Castiel just wasn't forth-coming today with information about you. You are so like your Mother. I remember what her Grace felt like. I've missed her most out of my family."

"Maybe you shouldn't have rebelled then."

Lucifer smiled. "You have her fiery nature as well. And how could I not rebel – humans don't deserve to be treated better than us! You have seen what they are like. I know it will be hard for you considering what you are, but you have experienced first-hand how cruel they can be."

"I'm not going to join you." Harry's voice was quiet, but Lucifer had touched a nerve. "I will die first and I'm going to fight you all the way."

"That is a shame Ezekiel. But I know you will join me eventually. Just like Sam will say 'yes' to me." Lucifer picked up his shovel again. "Besides, your power is down right now – no doubt wasted on humans. You can't fight me, let alone stop me right now, Nephew."

Sam was glancing at the people standing, watching, completely still. "What did you do?" he asks. "What did you do this town?"

"Oh I was very generous with this town," Lucifer replies, his attention turning from Harry to Sam within a second. "One demon for every able-bodied man."

"And the rest of them?" Sam asks.

Lucifer chuckles and points at the hole he's filling in. "In there. I know, it's awful. But these horsemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first." He leans on the shovel. "I know what you must think of me, Sam. But I have to do this. I have to. You of all people should understand."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asks.

Lucifer puts down the shovel and walks closer. "I was a son. A brother. Like you. A younger brother. And I had an older brother who I loved. Idolized, in fact. And one day I went to him, and I begged him to stand with me. And Michael – Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me something, Sam. Any of this sound familiar?" Sam doesn't reply. "Anyway. You'll have to excuse me. Midnight is calling. And I have a ritual to finish. Don't go anywhere. Not that you could if you wanted to." Lucifer turned bright eyes to Harry. "Not too late to join me. Then I wouldn't have to go through with this stupid ritual – we both know that the Horseman is just a cheap imitation of you and your powers."

Harry shook his head. "No, that will never happen, Lucifer."

Sam turns back to Dean as Lucifer raises his hands above the grave and begins to chant. He then turns to the crowd of people watching. "Now repeat after me. We offer up our lives, blood, souls..." Dean starts to wake up as the people repeat the words and leans back against the tree, panting. "To complete this tribute," Lucifer goes on. One by one, the people fall down dead. Lucifer looks over at Sam, who's staring in horror. "What? They're just demons." Lucifer looks at Harry intently. "You could have prevented that Nephew. Now I'm going to have to release the Horseman. Got to do this by the Book after all." Lucifer gave a laugh at his own joke, and Harry clenched his fists in frustration.

Harry watched as Dean slowly stood up, supported by Sam. A sudden thought occurred to him and he rapidly sent out the last of his Grace, searching. He almost sighed in relief when he couldn't feel his Uncle, sister, Jo or Ellen anywhere close by. Castiel had thankfully taken them to Bobby's and was waiting for them there. Harry was shook from his thoughts when the ground shook and a figure rose from the mass grave that Lucifer was chanting over. The figure turned its featureless face towards Harry and the Winchester brothers. Harry felt a sudden surge of shadowy power reach out with its sly tendrils and moved rapidly to block it with his powers. The Hallows ring flashed weakly and Harry reinforced it with his magic, directing it into the ring from his very core at the centre of his soul. Sweat gathered on his brow as he tried to find as much power as he could as the Horseman increased the energy he was throwing at Harry.

Lucifer laughed. "I was right Nephew. He is just a cheap imitation of you. Even running on the last dregs of your power, you can still hold him off. I can't wait for you to join me."

Harry gritted his teeth and poured more magic into the ring as the pressure increased as the Horseman became angry and frustrated. "I. Will. Never. Join. You." Harry spat.

"Yes you will. Because you are more like me than you will ever know Nephew."

Harry decided he had to do something and went with the first plan that he could think of. Hermione would kill him for doing something that he hadn't thought through first, but he was accustomed to doing rash things in the face of imminent death. Harry dropped his shield and grabbed the Winchesters. Forcing his remaining magic around them, he apparated them to Bobby's house. As soon as he saw they were in Bobby's living room, safe and relatively unharmed, he let go of the brothers. And promptly fell into darkness as he passed out.


	11. Chapter 11

This was the last place on Earth, Heaven or Hell that Harry wanted to be right now.

The marble surrounding him, the large atrium looming empty and silent, his breathing echoing off the walls. It was all a horrible reminder of the place where Harry had finally lost the last of his remaining family. Almost everyone that he loved had died here, and Harry had not returned since that day. That day that was etched into his memory.

The atrium at the British Ministry of Magic no longer looked like this. It used to, before the final attempt to seize power by the remaining Death Eaters. Before that event, it was a busy hub of witches and wizards hurrying around, doing their business and coming and going from work. But then the Death Eaters and their last remaining dregs of allies attacked. It had been unexpected and vicious and bloody. The entire atrium was left in rubble, with bodies everywhere and the air heavy with the taste of sweat, blood and burning. By the time the battle was over and the light side had won, it was too late to save the people that Harry loved.

He had been searching the rubble for any surviving enemies, all too aware the damage they could do if they were to attack again whilst everyone was weak and not expecting another attack, when he came across Ron's body. It had been…..bloody. That was the only word that Harry could use to describe it. Ron's entire throat had been ripped out, and Harry could see the telltale sign of a vampire. Ron wouldn't have stood a chance if he had been jumped from behind. It was a bloody death, but Ron would have also passed out quickly from blood loss. Harry tucked his emotions away and moved away to the next area of the atrium to search.

As more and more bodies of his friends, family and allies were unearthed from the rubble, Harry was finding it more and more difficult to stuff all his emotions into his little locked vault at the back of his mind. Soon, the only person unaccounted for, as a survivor, an injured person or a dead body, was Hermione. Harry couldn't help it as his fear for her forced its way out of his grasp and took control of him. It was the most bittersweet moment for him when he found her unconscious, but otherwise uninjured save for a few cuts and bruises, under a piece of rubble. He had picked her up, apparated straight to the hospital and refused to allow her to leave his sight for a week straight.

"This is a difficult place to be, isn't it?"

Harry turned quickly and saw the strangest sight he had come across, which was saying something considering everything he had seen and done in his short life so far. Standing before him were three versions of….well, himself.

"Ok." Harry looked over the other 'him's. One was wearing black robes and was studying him with an emotionless face. On his right hand, the Hallows glittered at Harry. The doppelganger next to him was decked out in full wizarding battle gear that Harry had not wore since he had left England with Hermione. He had a wand gripped tightly in his hand and was looking at Harry as though weighing him as a potential opponent. The last Harry was wearing plain black robes, and Harry could see the faint shadow of wings extending out of his back. He had his head tilted slightly in a manner that was distinctly reminiscent of Castiel when he was confused by something human.

"Ok." Harry nodded slowly. "Not what I was expecting, but I can work with this. You guys are better than Dumbledore anyway. I swear, any more self-righteous lectures from him and I would have punched him in the face, respect for the dead be damned."

Wizard-Harry seemed to have elected himself as spokesman for the group and took a small step forward. "You aren't dead. You are merely unconscious. Don't you remember what happened with the Horseman of Death and Lucifer?"

Harry suddenly got flashes of a field and the Winchesters. And then Lucifer's annoyingly smug face floated in front of his vision. "I remember what happened. But how do I know that I haven't been caught and this is some kind of trick of Lucifer? I wouldn't put anything past him."

Wizard-Harry smirked. "Like Lucifer could make up something this strange. Although, considering all the crazy shit that has happened in our life, this isn't that high on the weird scale."

Harry considered this for a minute, before nodding. "True. Ok, so I'm not dead again. That means I'm what? Unconcious? That doesn't explain why you are all here."

Hallows-Harry looked up and met Harry's gaze. It sent shivers down Harry's spine at the lack of emotion in the emerald orbs and suddenly wondered if this is what others felt when he used that expression on people.

"We are all here because your subconscious is trying to tell you something important. Something that you already know, but don't want to admit to yourself."

"Well, if I'm not admitting it to myself, then how do I have a clue what the hell you are talking about?" Harry huffed in annoyance. "I swear, my subconscious is sounding more and more like Dumbledore."

Wizard-Harry actually looked offended. "That isn't a very nice thing to say. Especially seeing as you are saying it about yourself." He rolled his eyes. "Besides, that is why we are here."

"Of course." Sarcasm dripped off Harry's voice. "Because it is so obvious. How could I have missed that point?"

Wizard-Harry took a step forward and whacked Harry upside the head. "Stop snarking at us. We are here because you need our help. Be serious for one minute – I mean, it's only the Apocalypse we are talking about here. Nothing too pressing."

Harry rubbed his head and observed 'himself'. Angel-Harry and Hallows-Harry were watching the interaction with blank expressions. It was unnerving really. Harry knew he could not get out of this. He knew that he had many issues floating around his mind, but he always pushed them to the back of his mind.

"Fine." Harry huffed and crossed his arms. "Just tell me what you need to and let me go back to the land of the living."

Wizard-Harry rolled his emerald eyes once again, and stowed his wand in the holster that Harry kept his wand in during battle on his forearm. "If you can stop acting like a petulant child for one minute, then I may be able to get this show on the road. Besides, that isn't what this is about. It is supposed to be enlightening and a deeply meaningful moment of catharsis for you. You can't rush stuff like this."

"Of course, please continue."

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, especially from myself." Wizard-Harry was now mimicking Harry's pose, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"I can say whatever I like to myself." Harry looked at the angel and Hallows version of himself and gestured in their general direction. "Aren't they going to make some witty comments?"

Wizard-Harry glanced in their direction. "Nah, they aren't exactly very chatty. So, you are just going to have to put up with me." His gaze suddenly became serious. "We really need to talk and make you understand."

Harry sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Ok. Tell me."

"As I'm sure you can guess, we are all the parts of yourself – the different facets to your soul that you try to keep detached from one another. You are truly unique – you were born a wizard, but intertwined in your very soul is your Angelic Grace. And I know you think that you only became the Master of the Hallows once you had acquired all three, but it was your destiny right from the beginning to become the Master of Death. It is a dark vein running through the core of your soul."

"I know this. Why are you telling me if I already know it?"

Wizard-Harry leaned forward. "You know it, but I don't think that you truly understand it. You keep all three powers separate and don't use them in conjunction with each other."

"I don't see what is wrong with that. I use my powers in different situation and it depends which one is best suited."

Wizard-Harry shook his head emphatically. "No, you can't do that. It is like you are building walls in your soul – you are segregating portions of yourself. You will need every bit of yourself you can reach if you are to stop the Apocalypse."

Harry looked away. "It is just so difficult. I remember when I was 'just Harry'. No destiny, so great things expected, no crazy people trying to constantly kill me."

Wizard-Harry gave a sad smile. "You have never been 'just Harry'. You have always been entwined with Fate – every part of you. The Destinies of so many people rely on you fulfilling _your_ Destiny."

Harry met the understanding eyes of the wizard version of himself and nodded slowly. "I understand. I accept that I need to recognise that there are different pieces of myself and let them all become one. I guess I just need to be 'myself' and not try to be something different depending on the situation."

"Good. I think you know what is needed." Wizard-Harry turned and started walking away with the other Harrys, before turning back to face Harry. "One more thing. You need to let your emotions in more, and see the people that are right in front of you. You only let yourself feeling anything for you sister and uncle. There are others that you can open up to." Seeing the confused look on Harry's face, Wizard-Harry smirked. "You always were blind. Don't worry, you will see soon enough."

Harry opened his mouth to make a sarcastic comment, when his alter-egos disappeared and his vision suddenly became bright white.

* * *

Dean took another swig of the coffee in his mug and flipped through the file on the table in front of him once more. It was from another Hunter, Martin Creaser, who had called and asked Dean and Sam to investigate a possible Hunt in the psychiatric unit that he was currently a patient of. Dean had his reservations about it, but Martin was a fellow Hunter and had helped their Dad out in the past. They owed him to at least check it out.

Rubbing his eyes in frustration at the lack of information that the file actually contained, Dean went to take another gulp of caffeine and realised that his mug was empty. He got up, stretching his muscles to relieve the cramp and wandered over to the coffee pot. He had just filled up his cup, when a cry of delight reached his ears. Dumping the cup down next to the pot, he rushed to the next room as nonchalantly as possible.

Upon entering the room, Dean saw Jo with her arms wrapped around the neck of Ezekiel, who was sitting up on the sofa. He was patting Jo on the back with a mildly confused look on his face. He looked over at Dean hovering in the doorway.

"What is going on? Why are you throwing yourself at me Jo? Although, if you want to fling yourself at me again, I need at least dinner and a movie next time you wanna get this close to me."

Jo pulled back and hit Ezekiel in the arm. "I was worried about you – we all were."

Ezekiel looked from Dean to Jo in confusion. Dean elaborated for him. "You have been unconscious for a week. We were all worried, even though Hermione and Cas said that you were just recharging your batteries after you used too much in Carthage."

Ezekiel nodded, a neutral expression settling on his face. "Where are Castiel and Hermione?"

Jo answered before Dean could reply. "Cas got some kind of angelic message and needed to go and investigate or something. Hermione is in town with Sam getting some groceries and other supplies. My Mom and Bobby have gone a couple of towns over to get some kind of rare reference book on Angels and won't be back until dinner. So, it is just Dean and I here with you."

Ezekiel sat up straighter. "Did Castiel mention anything about this message?"

"No, just that he needed to investigate immediately."

Ezekiel stood up and pulled a long chain from under his shirt. Hanging on the end of the thin silver chain was a teardrop shaped black crystal. It looked as though there was a light trapped inside the stone. Ezekiel gripped the pendant and closed his eyes. Dean felt a sight breeze on the back of his neck and turned to see Cas stood behind him.

"You are awake. Good." Cas strode forward and pulled Ezekiel into a hug. "I had not realised that you had used so much of your energy is escaping Lucifer."

Ezekiel pulled back and locked eyes with Cas. "It was not just Lucifer. I had to expend energy shielding both the Winchesters and myself from the Horseman."

Cas nodded grimly. "I understand. It was a false hope that it would Lucifer longer to discover you. I have discovered information about an Angel that it working with Lucifer and is giving him vital information that is detrimental to our cause."

"Of course. As soon as Hermione returns and I inform her of the current circumstances, then we will leave and track this Angel down."

Castiel tilted his head, observing Ezekiel. "Are you sure it is wise to involve yourself in such as task so soon after you have recovered from a massive energy drain?"

"Cas, I need to help you. I have recovered a sufficient amount to ensure that I will be able to deal with almost any situation that may arise. We need to move quickly with the information that you have gathered."

"Are you sure that is a good idea?" Dean cleared his throat in discomfort when three sets of eyes turned to look at him. "I mean, you have only been awake about ten minutes. You should take at least a day or two to recover some more. You could be walking into, you know, a dangerous situation."

Ezekiel met Dean's own gaze with intense emerald eyes. An emotion flickered in them for a second, before they became blank. Dean pushed down the disappointment that was rising in his chest at the lost opportunity of getting something more than robotic reactions from the Seraphim and looked away.

"Your concern is welcome, but not necessary. This task is urgent and cannot be delayed for such a long period of time." There seamed to be an underlying edge to Ezekiel's tone, but when Dean looked back at the Angel, Ezekiel had already moved to the other end of the room and was having a quiet but intense conversation with Cas.

* * *

Harry pushed back his frustration at the lack of information his Uncle was able to provide him about the rogue Angel. It was not Castiel's fault, it was merely that the Angel was hiding herself well somewhere on Earth and it was difficult to dig her out of the hole that she was hiding in.

Harry was trying to concentrate on his Uncle's suggests on how they should proceed to find her, but his gaze kept wandering to the other side of the room where Dean was having a low conversation with Jo. Harry was not surprised by the concern that Dean had shown him, but more by the depth of it.

Harry and Dean had been strictly professional the few times that they had had contact since the argument that had occurred during that stupid Supernatural convention that they had all been tricked into going to. Harry was still pissed that Dean seemed to presume that he had any right to demand anything from him, and Dean seemed angry that he had not got the information he wanted.

Harry knew that now Lucifer knew about his existence, he should really tell the Winchesters the truth about himself. Lucifer seemed to know a lot more about him than Harry expected, so Harry supposed that it was now the Winchesters who were in the dark more than anyone else involved. Harry did not know why he was so reluctant to tell the Winchesters the truth, and he did not want to delve too deeply into his psyche. One visit from his subconscious was enough to last him a lifetime.

"Once we have returned from this task, I believe it would be wise to tell the Winchesters and Bobby the truth about you. If we do not, it could be dangerous for them to be in the dark about certain important facts."

Harry met the blue orbs of his Uncle and shifted slightly in discomfort. "I'll think about it. I'm not sure if I am ready to tell them just yet."

Castiel tilted his head in confusion. "Is this a human peculiarity that I do not understand? You were the one that initially refused to act in a manner befitting a Seraphim."

"I know. I don't want to get into such a deep conversation with you right now, Uncle Cas. And to be honest, I don't know why I don't want to tell them just yet."

Cas looked intently at Harry, who met his gaze honestly. After a moment or two, he nodded. "If this is what you want. However, I will not allow the Winchesters to be kept from such vital information for too long. I will tell them if the situation requires it."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, when the front door slammed shut and two quiet voices sounded, travelling from the hallway to the kitchen. Turning to face the open doorway between the combination living room and pseudo-library, Harry saw that Hermione was laying the bags in her arms on the table. Following close behind her was Sam, carrying more bags. Hermione turned to help Sam, but stopped dead when she saw Harry stood in the middle of the room, very much awake.

Without a word, she sprinted across the two rooms so fast that Harry would have sworn she had Apparated if he had not known better and flung her arms tightly around his neck. Harry merely closed his eyes and pulled her closer. Even though he knew she was okay and unharmed from their trip to Carthage, being back at the Ministry in his mind brought all the emotions of that day back to him. They hit him like a wave, pounding on the tightly held walls he kept around his emotions.

Hermione pulled back, a wide smile lighting up her face. "You're awake. I was worried when you didn't come around a few days ago."

Harry gave her a small smile, allowing the rest of the room to fade away and concentrated on just his sister. He brought a hand up and gently wiped away a stray tear running down her check that Hermione had not been able to suppress before it had escaped. "You know I always bounce back from stuff like this. Death has never been able to keep a hold on me before, so why would he be able to now?"

Hermione gave a small chuckle. "That is a good point. I'm glad you woke up before the Hunt started. I didn't want to leave you." Hermione paused, biting her lip. "I mean, I don't have to go if you want me to stay with me. We were planning to leave first thing tomorrow morning, but I don't have to go if you don't want me to."

Harry shook his head. "No, you should go. I have to leave with Cas as soon as possible to act quickly on his information. You go with the Winchesters and if you need anything, I'm only a phone call away."

"Okay." Hermione pulled away and turned to smile at Jo, who was hovering near the kitchen. "You promised to help me pack, remember?"

Jo nodded, a smile brightening he features. "Yeah, sure. I remember. We should start now, so we don't have to do too much after dinner."

Both women left the room, a quiet conversation about what Hermione should pack striking up between them. Sam cleared his throat. "That isn't a bad idea. Dean, we should get everything packed up as well." Dean rolled his eyes, but silently left the room. Sam made to follow him, but Harry called him back.

* * *

Sam turned back to the two Angels in the room nervously. He was slightly unnerved by two sets of intense eyes staring at him. Ezekiel turned slightly to his Uncle, who seemed to take a cue and left with only a slight flutter and breeze. Ezekiel once again turned his intense emerald eyes on Sam and merely observed him for a moment.

"This will be the first real Hunt in a while that Hermione and I have been separated for. I know you will understand the depth of what I am saying when I tell you that Hermione's life means more to me than my own. Hermione and Castiel are the only true family that I have left." Ezekiel paused and looked away from Sam. When he looked back, Sam felt shivers run down his spine at the hard edge in the green eyes boring into his own. "I would tear the world apart to protect them from anything. So, you should know just how much I mean it when I tell you that Hermione's happiness is everything to me. You seem to be a part of that happiness now. I know that Hermione is very capable of taking care of herself, but I still worry about her."

Ezekiel turned away from Sam and looked intently out of the window into the scrap yard. "I gave you my blessing to date Hermione, and I will not go back on that. But I only ask you two simple things: that you will do everything to protect Hermione and that you will always strive to make her happy."

Sam stared at the Seraphim, not sure what to do or say. He knew that Ezekiel and Hermione cared deeply for each other, but he had no idea that the Angel would be able to express his affectation to anyone but his Uncle and Hermione herself. It almost made Sam think that he was human. He tried not to gather any kind of hope on his brother's behalf, but it was difficult. Sam did not think that even Dean knew just how deeply his emotions for the Angel ran. Dean was not the kind of person to analyse and express his feelings, but Sam knew his brother like no one else did. He saw how much Dean actually liked the Seraphim.

"I would do anything to make Hermione happy and I would give my life if it would make her safe." Sam could think of no other word to express himself to the Angel, but his simple reply seemed to be enough.

"Good." Ezekiel turned and glanced at Sam once more. "I must go and help Castiel. I will return once the task is complete." The Seraphim disappeared without a sound, leaving Sam stood alone in the middle of the room. Well, almost alone. It seemed Dean had not gotten over his annoying childhood habit of eavesdropping.

"So, that was kind of intense." Dean came back into the room from where he was hiding out in the hallway, his tone light but his gaze serious. "That was kind of scary. And strangely….human."

"Dean…"

"Yeah yeah." Dean waved his hand in annoyance. "I know he isn't human. I don't need to have this talk again with you Sam. I know he is an Angel jammed into a human meatsuit. You don't have to remind me dude." Dean refused to meet Sam's eyes. "So, let's go pack and get this show on the road."

* * *

The crowd was packed close together, all trying to find their seats and other members of their group. It was like any other Wednesday service, but, unbeknownst to those in the crowd, the air was charged and there was a sense of anticipation. A figure stood among the crowd, silent and strong. Without knowing it, the swarm of people was giving the figure a wide berth, leaving an empty space around him.

Harry closed his eyes and allowed his senses to expand and move beyond the hustle and bustle of the crowd around him. Taking his own advice, he allowed his magic, the Hollows and his Grace to all seep through the walls he kept around them. Once they connected, he dropped the walls completely and almost staggered as the three portions of his soul connected and sparked into life. He felt them all mingle and was suddenly hit with a sense of…rightness.

An external source of power suddenly hit him in waves. Harry's heart suddenly jumped and began to race in anticipation. His eyes snapped open as he scanned the crowd, searching for the source of the Grace that had hit him moments before. He was broken out of his concentration when Castiel appeared over his shoulder. Harry felt his soul and Grace before he saw him, his own Grace and the power of the Hallows working in synchronicity.

"I am unable to locate the Angel among the crowd. We should allow the crowds to settle before we attempt to locate her again."

Harry nodded and guided his Uncle towards two empty seats as close to the front as he could find. It was busy in Saint Peter's square that day – it was always packed when there was a mass. As Harry looked around, observing everything carefully and quickly, he saw people from all over the world. They had all come to see the centre of their faith and its leader among humans. Harry had never grown up paying much attention to religion. It was merely another topic they studied in primary school and it wasn't something that was valued greatly in the Dursley household. But since Castiel had appeared in his life, Harry had studied Christianity deeply. However, he had never been to the Vatican before, even though he had been in Rome a few times.

As the mass began, Harry lowered his head and allowed his power to gently sweep across the crowds. It was ten minutes into the mass that his power hit a wall of energy. Harry pushed his power harder against the wall, and almost jumped in shock when a snap of energy hit him in retaliation. Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance and mild anger and looked up. His eyes scanned the crowd and settled on an attractive blonde woman sat a few rows away from him. She was staring at him with blank eyes, her posture stiff. Harry gathered a tight coil of energy and pushed it at her. He gave a small smirk of satisfaction when she flinched and anger flickered in her dark gaze.

Harry could feel her gathering her Grace, but with a spark in inspiration, her reached out with his Grace and connected with hers. It was a bright moment, invisible to all the humans around watching the mass, unaware of the Supernatural energy battle going on among them. Harry felt all of the Angel's anger, contempt, hate…..there were so many negative emotions that Harry had so stuff them into a corner, or he would have been overwhelmed. Testing the limitations of the Hallows like he had never done before, Harry allowed the Hallow energy to snake along the connection with his Grace and wrapped it around the other Angel's soul, trapping the Grace in a cage of dark tendrils of smoke.

The dark eyes of the other Angel looked at Harry in shock and made to get up, but Castiel silently appeared behind her, wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace and silently disappeared. Harry pulled his power back into himself, and also silently left the unsuspecting crowd of worshippers. Following his Uncle's Grace, Harry found them in one of the many churches in Rome. Harry immediately warded and sealed the building so that the Angel could not escape.

Castiel let go of the Angel and she immediately tried to zap herself out. Harry gave a humourless smile. "Don't even bother. This building is now in a Supernatural lockdown. Nothing enters or exits without my say so."

"What do you want with me?"

Harry observed the spite in the other Angel's eyes. "A name to begin with would be nice. I'm Ezekiel and that is Castiel."

The Angel looked between the two others. "I'm Caraiel. And I know who you both are. Castiel – the Angel who would betray his own brothers and sisters for the _humans - _and Sofiel's hybrid son. The new rebel of the family. Lucifer is very interested in you, Harry."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I know. I found that out not long ago. I would ask you to pass on a message to him, but you won't be alive long enough to do that."

Caraiel gave a bark of laughter. "Like I believe you would actually kill me. You are half human and humans are weak. They are ruled by emotion. They are a failed experiment of our Father."

"Humans are not weak. Humans have survived being dumped on this piece of rock since day one. Angels have lived in Paradise since God created them to be his servants. You think Angels could have handled the hardships Humans endure everyday? I don't believe so. Angels are weak and pathetic. You are nothing but children throwing a tantrum because Daddy likes the younger child more."

Caraiel hissed in anger. "That is not true. The Mud-Monkeys are nothing! How can you even compare them to the glory of us Angels?"

"Very easily. I have lived as a human and I have seen what Angels are truly like." Harry leaned forward, his face close to the other Angel's. "I would rather live and die as a human than join your pathetic cause."

"That can be arranged." Caraiel hissed out in anger. "I'm not going to tell you anything, and when Lucifer realises that I'm missing, he will find me and destroy you."

"I doubt that, because I'm worth more to Lucifer than your pathetic life could even mean."

"Then I guess he will just have to settle with killing those that you love. Castiel to start with and then that little pet human you keep around….I would love to be there to hear her screams as she dies, knowing that you won't be able to do a thing to save her."

Harry hissed in frustration, his power lashing out without a thought to wrap around Caraiel's Grace and squeezing it tightly. Caraiel cried out in pain and fell to her knees. Harry let his grip around her Grace go slack, but not completely released. Caraiel glared at him from the floor, panting softly.

Kneeling down in front of her, Harry leaned close. "Do not push me. Everything in me is telling met to kill you as painfully and slowly as possible. That must be the vengeance that I get from both the human and Angelis side of the family tree." Harry tightened the cage for an instant, the hitch in Caraiel's breath an indication of just how much pain the small spike had caused her. "Tell me what you know and I will allow Castiel to kill you quickly with an Angelic blade. But don't tell me and I will rip your Grace from your body piece by piece."

"What kind of offer is that?" Caraiel's voice was clear and defiant, but Harry could hear an edge of fear in it. Feeling a stab of remorse and guilt, Harry pushed his emotions away into the small box in his mind.

"It is the best offer you are going to get." Harry's emerald eyes bored into Caraiel's dark ones, nothing showing in his deep gaze.

"I don't know Lucifer's plans. I swear! I only recruit for him – I find Angels that are sypathetci to him, work on them and then recruit them into our ranks. That is all." Caraiel's voice dropped to a quiet pleading. "Please, that all. I swear."

Harry stared her down, but could find no ounce of deception in her. He released the cage around her Grace and watched as she slumped in relief on the floor. She closed her eyes as Castiel approached her, a silver blade glinting in his grip. Just as he was about to raise the sword, Harry stopped him and took the blade from him. Leaning down, he whispered in Caraiel's ear.

"I forgive you for your betrayal to our family." Before she could open her eyes, Harry deftly drove the blade into her heart and looked away as bright sparks and lights emanated from the wound. Laying her gently on the floor, Harry silently disappeared.

* * *

Dean was just getting changed when his phone rang, Metallica blaring loudly. Digging through his jeans, Dean pulled out his phone and hit answer. "Yeah, what have you got for me?"

Dean listened for a moment." No, I'm heading that way now. I just got back from a Hunt at a nut house. Yeah, I know. Don't ask. Sure, 20 minutes."

Dean stored his phone away and was just pulling on his shirt when the door opened and Sam came in. "Hey, Hermione and I are making dinner and were wondering if you were going to join us."

Dean shook his head. "No thanks. I'm just about to head out. I've got something to do."

Sam observed his brother for a minute. "Are you okay? I mean, you seem…different since the last Hunt."

Dean shook his head harder this time. He really didn't want to talk about his experience at the mental hospital. He just wanted to forget the whole damn experience and move on. "No, I'm fine." Dean could see that Sam didn't believe him, so he fell back on his typical sense of humour to get out of the deep conversation Sam surely wanted to have. "Hermione sure looked hot in that nurse's outfit. I hope she kept it."

Sam scowled at his older brother. "Dean…" His tone had a warning edge to it.

"Whatever, bitch. I'll be back later." Dean exited the room quickly, in case Sam wanted to either have the chick-flick moment or bitch at him some more for leering at his girlfriend.

* * *

Dean slipped into a seat at a table in the back of the rowdy bar, taking a swig of his beer as he observed the crowd. It was a busy night, and the bar seemed to be full to capacity. It had been difficult to get to the bar and Dean was lucky to find an empty table in such a private part of the bar. He just hoped that Jim wouldn't take too long getting there and make him wait.

Just as Dean had that thought, a man quietly slipped into the empty seat next to him. He was average height, average appearance…..he was average in every way except one. He was amazing at finding information on just about anything. Normally, that information came a high price, but Dean and his father had done Jim a favour a few years back and Dean had finally called in that marker.

"So, you have the information I asked for?" Dean took another gulp of his beer. "It took you a while."

Jim snorted. "Yeah, that's because those wand-waving wizards are the most secretive bunch I have ever encountered. They take secrecy to a whole new level."

Dean eyed him. "But you managed to get the information?"

"I got some information. I don't know if it is what you are looking for, but it is the most I could get out of those tight-lipped morons." Dean nodded and gestured for Jim to continue. "I found out that Harry James Potter was born to Lily and James Potter 23 years ago. His parents died when he was 18 months old, killed by a wizard called Voldemort who wanted ultimate power. His records show him living with his mother's sister and her family until he went to boarding school at 11 – I assume he went to the top-secret, hidden magical boarding school over in the UK somewhere."

Jim paused for a moment, glancing around the room, deep in thought. "This is where the information gets sketchy and I have had to rely a bit on rumours and stories from some wizarding sources I have.

Harry Potter disappears from the ordinary system at 11, but I've found some stories about him. The entire wizarding population virtually worships him. He apparently defeated Voldemort – the most powerful dark wizard in all history – at the age of 17 and became the Master of Death or something like that. From all of the other stories I've heard about some of the stuff he has done, he is one all-powerful son of a bitch. The last thing I managed to find was an announcement in one of the wizarding papers, announcing the engagement of one Lord Harry James Potter and a Ginerva Molly Weasley."

Dean felt a sudden and intense flare of anger. So, Ezekiel was in the body of some wizarding superman and had taken him away from his fiancée. Dean knew that he shouldn't be so angry with the Seraphim – hell, he didn't hold it against Cas that he had taken Jimmy away from his family. He knew that he needed to do it to help save the world from the Apocalypse. Some sacrifices were necessary.

However, Dean knew his anger stemmed more from hurt than anything else. He was just beginning to grasp how deeply he felt for the dark-haired Angel of the Lord, and now his fears were confirmed. The Angel was in a body that belonged to someone with a life – a hero to a whole race of people on Earth. And he had a fiancée waiting for him somewhere in the world, probably wondering where he was and if he was even alive. And it was the stab of jealousy that Dean felt that made him more angry and frustrated than any of the other information he had found out so far.

"Is that everything you have for me?" Dean stood up as Jim silently nodded his head. "Thanks Jim. We're even now." Dean left the bar without another word.

* * *

Harry sat silently next to his sister, merely observing her and Sam as they were deep in conversation at the dining table in Bobby's kitchen. Ellen and Bobby were at the other end of the table, talking animatedly about the new reference books that they had recently acquired. Jo was sat next to Harry, who turned to her when she asked him a question. Turning towards her slightly, a small smile on his face, Harry was about to answer when the door slammed shut. Everyone at the table fell silent as Dean stood in the doorway, and look of fury on his face.

"I want answers from you right now!" Dean was glaring directly at Harry.

Harry rose to his feet and returned the glare with a calm look, putting his 'angel mask' on. "I thought I told you that you had no right to demand information from me when you have been withholding vital information from me."

"Like hell" Dean took a step closer, a dangerous look on his face. "You are going to tell me what the hell you are doing in that meatsuit."

Harry felt a spike of confusion, but kept his emotionless mask in place. "I do not see how the information you are demanding from me is important in any way."

Dean's features became darker. "Not important? Don't you think that your choice in vessel is important to us? I know what I think – you are just like all the other douchebag Angels in your family. What, having a powerful wizarding saviour as your vessel makes you happy? A normal one wasn't good enough, so you went out and found a particularly special one to impress and outdo everyone else in your family of SOBs?"

Harry felt his fury increasing with every word Dean threw at him and couldn't stop some of it from seeping through his mask. "You have no idea what you are talking about Winchester. Stop right now before you say something you regret."

"Why? Worried everyone else in this room will find out exactly what you really are?" Dean sneered at Harry. "That you would take a man from his fiancée just so you can have a powerful wizard as your vessel." Dean's voice lowered, but everyone in the room could still hear it clearly in the deathly silence. "That you would let Ginerva Molly Weasley wonder and worry about her fiancé – wonder if he had left her or if he was even alive?"

Harry felt his full fury break through his already crumbling walls at the mention of Ginny. His power left him in one mighty burst, slamming Dean up against the wall. Not even thinking about the consequences, Harry reached out and grabbed hold of Dean's soul, gripping it tight. Ignoring the shocked looks he was receiving from everyone in the room, Harry stalked over to where Dean was pressed against the wall.

Leaning close to the other man, Harry hissed. "You have no idea what you are talking about. None at all." Harry squeezed Dean's soul tightly, before pulling all of his power back into himself. Ignoring the gasp from Dean, who was panting slightly at the sensation of his soul being attacked, Harry carefully erected his mental barriers once more and shoved his roaring emotions behind them.

"Harry…." Hermione had come up behind Harry and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. She sadly shook her head when Harry turned slowly to her and she saw his blank 'Angel mask' was firmly in place. "Harry, he doesn't know what he is saying. It's not his fault."

Harry looked at her for a moment, before turning away. He had to leave before his emotions overcame him again and broke through his flimsy control. "I must go to Castiel. He has need of me." The last thing Harry saw before he silently zapped himself away was Hermione's pleading look, everyone's shocked faces and Dean dark glare stabbing deeply into him.


End file.
